Fallen
by wingless crimson
Summary: [AU, feat. Atobe Keigo x Fuji Syusuke] When a disgraced, naive angel is rescued by a worldly, arrogant vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.
1. The Fall

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

Freaky plot, freaky pairings, go easy on me, please and thank you.

-_wingless (1/15/07)_

--

**I**

**The Fall**

--

* * *

Fuji realized suddenly that it wasn't in him to beg, even now, when an icy mask unlike any that he had ever seen adorned Tezuka's features. He wanted to beg, but it was like his voice had a mind of its own, rendering him silent. 

_Please, give me another chance! I won't ever fail ever again…I promise you! Tezuka…no, lover, Kunimitsu…please, I beg of you. _

If Fuji had been alone with Tezuka, then those were the words that would have spilled out of his lips without hesitation. But--

They were not alone.

"Raise your eyes." This command was given in a voice yet to lose its feminine wont, it would have been a voice of an innocent child, but Fuji knew better. He raised his head up to meet the just as piercing gaze of Yukimura Seiichi.

Fuji drew a sharp breath, "Yukimura." It took all he had to keep the spite out of his voice. He wished that Tezuka would say something…anything. "…I…"

"Failed." Yukimura supplied with a gentle smile. "Yet again." He made his way down the alabaster-carved steps without help, though his slender fingers curved tightly around the crystal railing as he descended, Tezuka stood still. "…Stand up."

Fuji complied, and directed his eyes towards Tezuka, determined not to look at Yukimura. But Tezuka seemed just as determined not to look at him.

"…So I did." The words tasted like acid on his tongue.

"…Do you think you should be forgiven, Syusuke?" It was Tezuka that spoke this time, he had not moved from his post.

_Syusuke_. Tezuka still consented to calling him Syusuke. That was enough. Fuji bit his lip and looked down. "…Yes," A short bitter laugh followed his reply, something he had not intended to let slip, "If only by you, Tezuka." He was about to lose everything…he couldn't bring himself to say Kunimitsu, to say lover…

"…How about yourself?" Tezuka walked down the steps and stopped at arm's length in front of him, "Do you think you deserve your own forgiveness?"

Fuji was at last able to look him in the eyes, he felt almost at ease again, "…No, I don't. And I don't think you should forgive me either. But I humbly ask your forgiveness."

Tezuka took him in his arms and held him, for a long moment, "…Then I give it. I give you my forgiveness freely. But…"

Fuji crushed the other's wings in his fingers, savoring the warmth that he too often took for granted. "I know. Do it quickly." He pulled away.

"…I can't watch." Tezuka said simply and released him.

"…It's all right, don't." Fuji smiled faintly, "…Don't watch. And—and don't be sad, I'll be back."

Tezuka opened his mouth, as if to say something else, but he only shook his head and turned to the white steps, disappearing in a silvery mist, leaving Fuji utterly alone.

Yukimura stepped forward now, the same gentle smile playing about his lips. "…I'm sorry, Fuji."

"You are not." Fuji said, just almost just as lightly, though only his eyes told the truth. "You're happy."

Yukimura stiffened visibly, though his expression remained unchanged, "…I don't think it hurts that much."

Fuji bent down, still not wanting to give Yukimura the satisfaction of seeing him break. "…Just do it. I don't need your condolences."

"Kunimitsu will miss you." Yukimura threaded his fingers through Fuji's wings, plucking out the ivory feathers one by one, they turned to ash when the floated down.

It didn't hurt, having his wings plucked, Yukimura was least to say, kind to not lie to him, though it was the strangest feeling. "…I will miss him too." Fuji wanted to demand why his lover was Kunimitsu to Yukimura. But didn't dare.

"…I'm sure you will." Yukimura backed off just a few delicate steps. "…The falling part will hurt though."

"What will hurt?" Fuji felt very naked without his wings, he despised Yukimura more than ever.

"…Your eyes, your heart, everything else." Yukimura's voice seemed so far away, "Good bye, Fuji Syusuke."

"Yukimura I hate--" But he never did get to finish, the final word was lost in a sea of dark anguish as he fell.

* * *

"Tough day?" Oshitari held the umbrella over both of their heads as they proceeded down the dismal water-abundant sidewalk. "…You sure picked a hell of a day to wear leather." 

"…I happen to like myself in wet leather. I turn more heads that way, don't you know?" Atobe returned tolerantly, "…Although being wet is annoying. How far _did_ you park?"

"…Well, someone wanted to oversleep today, so quite a ways. I won't say who." Oshitari replied smoothly, "…You want to wait at that bus stop over there? I'll walk the rest of the way by myself."

"Bus stops are disgusting." Atobe made a face.

Oshitari shrugged, "…No more than ruined brand-new boots." He gestured downwards to his companion's drenched footwear. "…They _are_ new, aren't they?"

"Well, of course they are." Atobe was officially irritated, "…Fine, I will. Just hurry up then." He stalked the rest of the way without the cover of the umbrella and sat down on the empty shaded bench.

Oshitari shifted the umbrella over to his other hand, "You'll get sick."

"…No, I won't, don't be ridiculous."

Oshitari paused, "…Right. Well, I'll be just a few minutes then, sit tight."

Atobe watched as Oshitari waved a hand and melted away into the murky crowd.

He was halfway through trying to shake water droplets out of his hair as inconspicuously as he could manage, since the said activity was a disgrace to observe, even for someone like him, when he felt someone staring at him.

A pale, almost sickly figure, though the first thought that Atobe had was that he was beautiful. Like an overgrown child.

"…Do you know where the buses go?"

The stranger's voice reminded him of bells, Atobe blinked, "…I don't ride buses." He said bluntly, "…I'm just waiting for someone."

But resuming his study of this stranger, Atobe realized that the other's apparel wasn't at all suited to a rainy day like this one. Wearing only a thin water-silk looking shirt and dark trousers (the shirt was only silk looking, because Atobe could bet millions that it wasn't), "…Aren't you cold?"

"Freezing. I forgot how cold it was." He agreed quietly.

Atobe was about to tell him just how stupid he was, but then he remembered that this person was a complete alien to him and it wouldn't do at all. "…Come sit down, you'll get colder if you keep standing there getting drenched."

"…Aah, all right." He took a seat beside him, careful to sit just so, that there was enough space. "…Do you really don't know where the buses go?" He asked again, though his tone was not at all mocking, just hopeful.

Atobe glanced up at the post, where the metal billboard listed the bus numbers and their destinations. "Look there." He pointed, "There are a lot of buses, where are you going?"

"I don't know." Came the reply.

"How can you not know?" Atobe questioned, slightly exasperated, "You must know, else I can't really help you. There are a lot of buses and they all go to different places."

The stranger had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They were tainted with a glassy hue, as if he was trying not to cry. "…I want to go somewhere warm, does that help?"

Atobe looked towards the post again, "…It's raining everywhere," He said finally, "Has been, for the past week. And it's been freezing cold all week also. So no, not really. You don't like the cold?"

"I told you, I just forgot how cold it was."

Atobe sighed, "…Bus 43 will take you to the train station, and the trains can take you out of the city, if that helps."

The gray sedan that Atobe (unfortunately) shared with Oshitari sloshed to a stop in front of the two of them, and whatever the stranger might of said was lost, even though Atobe was pretty sure the other didn't say anything.

"…Is that who you are waiting for?"

"Yeah." Atobe heard himself say as he got up, "…I have to go."

He looked wistful, a beautifully broken expression and he stood up too. "…Are you going someplace warm?"

Atobe stiffened, afraid that the stranger was going to ask. He wasn't in the habit of picking up random people off the streets, but he answered, "…Yes, I'm going home."

"That's good." He sat down again, "Good for you. Good bye, it was nice to meet you…" He trailed off, as if he wanted a name.

Atobe didn't hesitate to give him one, "Atobe." He waited to see if the stranger would give him a name too, he found himself hoping affirmative. He also wanted to see whether or not his name would ring a bell.

"Atobe." He nodded, "It was nice to meet you, Atobe." Obviously not.

The words slipped before he could help them, "…And who are you?"

"I?" The cerulean eyes blinked in mild surprise, "Oh, I'm Fuji."

"Fuji." Atobe gave Fuji one last once-over and realized that he really did hope that the other man had someplace warm to go to, since it seemed to be so important to him, '…Well, I hope you find your someplace warm."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I hope so too."

* * *

"Did you know him?" Oshitari wanted to know as they drove towards the school in otherwise silence. 

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb, Atobe, the person you were talking to, at the bus stop." Oshitari looked just mildly amused.

"What makes you say that?" Atobe was much too spent to argue the fact that he wasn't dumb, and he knew that Oshitari knew that a chance like this happened once in a blue moon.

"You don't talk to strangers, for one. And he looked beautiful enough to know you." Oshitari sounded smug.

"You make me sound so narcissistic, must I be acquainted everyone beautiful?" Atobe turned from studying the rain-soaked scene whizzing past them to Oshitari, "How do you even know if I found him beautiful?"

"Then you're telling me that he's not beautiful, am I wrong?" Oshitari looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. "We've had a long history together, Atobe. You can't lie to me anymore."

"He wanted to find a warm place." Atobe offered, at length, choosing not to answer to the comments that came after the question, answering them would be more than self-incriminating. "But no, I didn't know him. Fuji and I are strangers."

"…Do you pity him?"

"How is that relevant to anything?" He closed his eyes, "There wasn't much not to pity. He said he was freezing, and that he forgot it was cold." When the car jerked to a stop, he didn't even bother to scold Oshitari for being a horrible driver.

"_I want to go somewhere warm, does that help?" _

"…Where's the umbrella?" Atobe roused himself. "I'll go."

"…In the back—" Oshitari cut himself off, fixing his friend with a strange look, "…why so charitable all of the sudden? Aren't your boots going to get even more messed up?"

Atobe ignored him, opening the umbrella; he stepped outside and headed towards the school.

He took to peeking into each lighted classroom, because Atobe had never done this before, and he was ticked enough at Oshitari to forget to ask which classroom she was usually in.

When he glanced into Classroom 3-4, Atobe heaved a sigh of relief, but when he spoke her name, he immediately wished he hadn't. "Sakuno, let's go."

The beauty of the whole damn thing was that when Sakuno glanced up, the whole room (mostly girls, it might be very well to mention) did too, her "…Oh, Keigo-san." Was piteously mild compared to—

"Oh my gosh, Sakuno, you _weren't_ lying! You _do_ live with Atobe Keigo??"

"Atobe-sama! Can I please, please, _please_ have an autograph?? Please?"

She was kind enough to rescue from all of those asinine requests, though, when she gathered up her things and mumbled a quick farewell to the gawking crowd and shot out of the room, Atobe was much inclined to follow. Sometimes, though he loathed admitting so, an excess amount of attention did annoy him.

"…Why did you come get me today, Keigo-san?" She wanted to know as he put a protective arm around her shoulders, "Where's Yuushi?"

"…I just felt like it." Atobe replied, glancing at her, "Oshitari's in the car, did you seriously tell _everyone_ that you were living with Atobe Keigo? That's not like you."

Sakuno's face blushed a slight crimson, "…I didn't want to lie, people were asking." She trained her gaze on the mud-coated ground and then snapped up, as if she had suddenly thought of something. "Are you and Yuushi fighting?"

"Oshitari and I don't fight." He replied, perhaps a bit harsher than he had first intended.

"Why do you still call him Oshitari? Don't you two know each other from way back?" She questioned.

"It feels strange when I call him Yuushi, Sakuno. Heavens forbid, that's Mukahi's job." Atobe laughed lightly and opened the car for her.

"…Do you two have a habit of talking about me behind my back now?"

The brown-haired girl at once looked stricken, "No, Yuushi, it's not like that! Keigo-san and I were just--"

Atobe slammed the door, "…Talking about what an absolute bastard you are." He finished, almost gleefully.

"I'm a bastard, I admit that freely."

"_Yuushi--" _Sakuno looked distressed, "Keigo-san, you too, you know I hate it when you talk like that."

The two of them exchanged a look, "Sorry."

* * *

"You put it in a _mug_?" 

"Couldn't find the glass." Oshitari shoved the cup into his hands, "…You look like you need it; don't complain."

Atobe sipped and dabbed his mouth with a napkin, "…Yours?"

"…Both." Oshitari wouldn't look at him, "I think it was her way of thanking you."

Atobe's mind's eye saw the classroom and the girls, he laughed, "…Tell her no for next time, not on a school night."

"Atobe."

"Yes?"

"Why do you like pitiful people?" Oshitari sat down on his bed, watching him intently. "Myself, Sakuno, and that guy at the bus stop …I'm beginning to think you are deranged."

"I am deranged, I admit that freely." Atobe said, for the sake of not answering, he drained the mug and put it down, quoting the other from earlier, "…Why do you keep harping on about him? I talked to him because he talked to me first; it'd been rude for me to ignore him." He held up the stained cup.

"…I don't get it." Oshitari took the cup. "You never had qualms about being rude before."

"This was...different. And if you really did understand the reasons for my being deranged...I would be concerned." Atobe lay back on his bed, hastily changing the subject. "…Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" He expected no, he wanted no. But he had fallen into the habit of asking.

"Not particularly, good night."

Atobe slept, and dreamed of eyes just as sparkling and otherworldly as the unfathomable sea.


	2. Ghost of a Smile

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

Thanks so much for the nice reviews...I got so many, and I didn't expect it. But they did spawn inspiration for chapter two sooner than I thought, so that's why I'm putting this up early, I was planning to put it up sometime next week. But...well, hope you enjoy.

_-wingless (01-19-07)_

--

**II **

**Ghost of a Smile**

--

* * *

"_Yukimura, I hate you." _

He said it for the sake of saying it, Yukimura couldn't hear him.

The first thing that struck Fuji back into the realm of consciousness was that he was freezing. The second realization was that he was utterly drenched from head to toe. If he didn't move soon, he was sure he would have been frosted on the spot. He took one painful step forward.

The rain pounded relentlessly around him, yet no one out of the trickling throng of people around him seemed to notice. He lifted his eyes up, and felt the icy droplets fall on the tip of his tongue.

"_Kunimitsu." _

_Tezuka turned slowly from his post at the balcony, an almost nonexistent smile gracing his otherwise laconic features. Almost nonexistent, because Fuji had the fortune to be his lover and beloved, the smiles were for him and him alone to see. "What is it?" _

_Fujil picked absently at his scantly feathered wings as he spoke, "…You know when you die, you think of questions to ask the heavens if you ever get there? Did you ever do that?" _

"_Truthfully? No, not really." _

_He nodded and untangled himself carefully from the mess of white sheets strewn all over the bed and walked over to where the other stood, barefoot. "Saa, really? That's like you, I did though. I thought of questions every night when I was at the hospital, and I wrote them down." _

_Tezuka raised a mildly amused eyebrow, "…That's like you." He repeated calmly, "Don't pick at your wings so much, it's not comfortable at first, but you'll get used to it." He paused, "…What would you like to know?" _

_Fuji's hand had indeed strayed to his wings again, he dropped it to his side, looking down, "I don't mean to…but, well…I used to wonder why it rained a lot. It's so disgusting, and it makes everything wet, but everything seems all right afterwards. Kunimitsu, why does it rain?" _

_A long, almost choking silence, and then Tezuka's arms came up to hold him. Gold-tipped feathers tickled his nose. Fuji looked up, but the other's expression betrayed little, if nothing at all. _

"…_Kunimitsu?" He asked at last, only for the sake of saying the other's name. _

"_Heaven is not so different from the mortal realm it governs, Syusuke. We rejoice, and we weep, just as we once did, when we were humans." Tezuka's voice was uncharacteristically grave, even for him. "…The rain, Fuji Syusuke, are an angel's tears." _

"_Why would angels cry?" Fuji closed his eyes and pressed closer, so that his head was tucked securely under his lover's chin. "I don't understand." _

"…_Who knows?" _

Tezuka. He knew now.

His lover was crying for him, the droplets were distinctly bitter. Fuji winced and wiped his mouth. Just like the smiles, only for him to see. The tears were the pain, only for him to taste.

Letting the slow swarm of traffic swallow him, he finally came to a bus stop, blessedly shaded from the relentless drizzle, yet there was another person sitting there already, he was pawing at his hair, as if it really mattered. It amused Fuji, a little.

"Do you know where the buses go?" Fuji asked finally, almost certain that he would receive no answer.

The stranger looked up and blinked, after fixing Fuji with a scrutinizing stare that almost reminded him of Tezuka, he said, "…I don't ride buses." As if using such a common form of transport was a crime of sorts, "I'm just waiting for someone."

Fuji said nothing. There were some incoherent thoughts swimming around, but none of them were appropriate for voicing.

Silence, then "Aren't you cold?" This question reminded Fuji that he wasn't wearing much, and he was, indeed cold.

He nodded, "Freezing, I forgot how cold it was."

The stranger looked rather skeptical at this answer. Fuji knew it was vague, but it was also the closest answer to the truth that was safe to give. They were an unbelieving people. He knew that too, too well. "Come sit down, you'll get colder if you keep standing there getting drenched."

The sudden invitation caused Fuji to pause, and then he smiled softly, unexpectedly touched by such a simple gesture, "Aah, all right." He sat down on the bench. Watching the rain platter down, he asked again, fully expecting the answer from before, "Do you really don't know where the buses go?"

"…Look there."

Fuji's eyes followed the stranger's finger to a metal billboard nailed crudely on a post, the numbers and the words were a blur to him.

"There are a lot of buses, where are you going?"

The words caught in his throat. Fuji swallowed hard, and looked down, just in case the other man was looking at him. "…I don't know."

"How can you not know?" The stranger demanded, "You must know, else I can't really help you. There are a lot of buses and they all go to different places."

Fuji felt the tears come, and he blinked hard, willing them back as he lifted his eyes to meet the stranger's gaze. He wished he could lie, that he could tell him that he did have somewhere to go. "…I want to go somewhere warm, does that help?"

The steel-colored gaze left him for a moment to glance at the post. A sigh, perhaps the stranger was thinking about how stupid he was. "It's raining everywhere, has been, for the past week. It's been freezing all week also…so no, not really. You don't like the cold?"

Fuji loved cold, when there were arms that were warm that he could bury himself into. He shook his head, "…I told you, I just forgot how cold it was." Was all he chose to offer, after what seemed like an eternity of a spell.

Another sigh, one that didn't bother to hide its exasperation, "Bus 43 will take you out of the city, if that helps."

Fuji resumed staring out into the street, a car jerked to a hasty stop next to the curb. He could barely make out the figure behind the wheel and thought that he was looking at the stranger.

"…Is that who you are waiting for?"

"Yeah." His still nameless companion got abruptly to his feet. "I have to go."

Why did everyone have a place to go? Fuji stood up numbly too, maybe he could pretend that he was… "Are you going to someplace warm?"

The stranger's back tautened visibly, "…Yes," His voice was tight, but he replied, "I'm going home."

"That's good." Fuji sat down again, and kicked at the puddles that formed near his feet. "Good bye, it was nice to meet you…" He suddenly wanted to call the stranger by name, but he couldn't at all explain why.

"Atobe." He supplied calmly as he turned, as if waiting for something. Fuji wondered what.

Fuji nodded, "Atobe. It was nice to meet you, Atobe."

Atobe's face fell just a bit, and again, Fuji wondered, "…And who are you?" he wanted to know.

"I?" Fuji didn't expect the question to reciprocated, but he shook himself, "…Oh, I'm Fuji."

"Fuji." Atobe gave him another long stare, "Well, I hope you find your someplace warm."

This moment, those words. Fuji looked back at him, it was almost warm enough. He smiled, "Really?"

"Yes."

Fuji nodded, as he watched Atobe walk away, "I hope so too." He whispered.

* * *

"_Wake up." _

_He reached up his arms, like an expectant child, eyes closed, "Kunimitsu, am I back? If I am, let me sleep a little longer." _

"_Wake up." _

"I _said_ wake up, you bastard!"

It was a jarring blow to his shoulder that brought him back. Fuji's eyes fluttered open, wincing.

"How long have you been here?" Spit laced with whiskey showered down on him. "How long have you been here? Answer me!"

Fuji rubbed his eyes, "…I don't know." He came face to face with a fattish face, red from drinking; he could smell it better than he could see.

The officer's uniform was messily tucked and there were dark stains. Fuji had to strain his eyes to see all of these things. It was still dark.

"Well, you're not allowed to be here if you're not waiting for the bus." The man slurred out, "You're not waiting for the bus, aren't you, boy? Buses stopped running hours ago."

Fuji was too scared to be indignant, "…No, no I'm not." He shook his head and edged slowly towards the other side of the bench, away. "…What time is it?"

"How the hell should I know?" Was the indignant reply that should have been on Fuji's own lips, slurred out slowly by the tipsy police officer, "You shouldn't be loitering here; anyway, this is a respectable street, mister."

Fuji squeezed his eyes shut tight, wanting to wake up someplace else. Tezuka's arms, in the mess of his own unkempt bed sheets…

He opened them again, the dismal scene before him had not changed, except—

--Except that it had stopped raining. Perhaps, Fuji felt his own eyes once again beginning to water, was it his turn to weep for all that he had lost? After all, Tezuka wasn't crying anymore.

His lover had stopped crying for him.

* * *

Atobe rolled over; reaching instinctively for the warm body that he more or less knew wouldn't be there. If Oshitari said that he didn't want to sleep with him, then Oshitari wasn't going to sleep with him. It was simple enough. 

He stared up at the ceiling for a while, because it was something to do. There weren't many options at this time of the night. And he was warm.

"_I hope you find your someplace warm." _

"_Really?" _

"_Yes." _

"_I hope so too." _

Atobe tossed aside the swath of blankets that clothed his almost naked form and began to get dressed.

* * *

"You hear me, boy?" The scathing tenor was scraping his ear raw. "I said this was a respectable street! Run home to mommy and say sorry or whatever." 

Fuji took another step backwards, still holding his shoulder where the man had punched, he opened his mouth, determined to do whatever it took to say he didn't run away from home, and that he…

"You know what I think? I think you need to run home and say sorry to your mother. She must be very proud of her son degrading a respectable street by just walking on it." A voice that was not Fuji's own spoke for him. "And I also think that you shouldn't harass people on a respectable street."

Fuji thought he knew the voice. But he was rooted to the spot, unable to move even a single inch.

"…Fuji, it's me, Atobe."

_Atobe? _What was he doing here? "…Atobe?"

"…Who the hell are you? You know this punk?" The officer was obviously unraveled at been spoken that way.

"…You shouldn't speak to me or him that way, sir." It was Atobe. Fuji gave him a sidelong glance and couldn't decide if he was relieved or not. "…I could sue you easily for a couple of billion dollars, and you do not want that to happen, rest very assured."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"…I'm sorry, sir, was that too much information for you to comprehend all at once?" Atobe's voice was laced thickly with distain. "You must forgive ore-sama for thinking too highly of you. Well, simply put, I can ruin your life, just like this." He snapped his fingers.

"Ore-_what_?"

"…Atobe," Fuji found his voice, as he sidestepped the stunned cop and faced him, "What…what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, what else? Let's go home." Atobe said shortly and grabbed his arm.

Fuji blinked, "…Go—home?" He spoke those words as if they were completely foreign to him.

"Yes, home." Atobe began to drag him away from the still raving officer to the car he had seen earlier. "…It's a warm place."

"…It is?"

Atobe opened the car door and rather vigorously shoved him inside, "Yes," Came the tense retort between gritted teeth, "Ask me later."

* * *

The streets were deserted, and the trilling police sirens were noticeably absent. Atobe had not expected the drunken officer to follow, after all his threats. But it was a pure ruse, if he had ever lied. He needed a name, at the very least, to sue, and of course, he hadn't bothered. 

He glanced at Fuji, who was leaning his head against the windowpane. "…Are you all right?"

There was silence that greeted his query, and Atobe thought the other was asleep, he was about to turn his eyes back on the road, when Fuji said, "…Yes, I am. Thank you."

"…Did you run away from home?" Atobe asked at last, the other seemed much too refined to just be a homeless beggar. And he wanted to keep conversation going, it was much too disturbing to dream of a stranger.

"No."

"Do you want to go home?" Atobe pressed, his curiosity fueled by the negligible responses, "Do you live around here?"

"I live very far away." Fuji shook his head and continued staring out the window, appearing strangely fascinated by the dismal scenery that slowly rolled past. "…I don't have a home anymore."

"But I thought you said…" Atobe cut himself off at the last moment, deciding not to finish, "I see."

The rest of the way home was made in heavy silence.

* * *

Fuji realized that he was sleepy, and his joints ached because trying to sleep on a wooden bench wasn't something he was accustomed to. It took all of his strength just to drag after Atobe down the darkened hallway that the other obviously called home. 

Atobe stopped at the last door at the end and beckoned for him to come in, Fuji did, after hesitating a minute and the door closed quietly after him. "…It's about two in the morning." Atobe informed him, rummaging through his closet which spanned an entire wall. "…So we'd best be quiet."

Fuji nodded foggily and leaned against the wall, barely able to keep his eyes open, "…Oh." He started just a bit when Atobe thrust a pile of clothes that smelled clean into his arms, "…What's…?"

"For you to change into, your clothes are disgusting." Atobe made a face. "They're all wet. You can't sleep in them." He gestured towards the closet, "You can change in there. There's a light switch on your right. My things might be a tad bit big for you, but they'll have to do."

Fuji just stood there.

"…Well, go on."

He stumbled into the closet and groped for the light switch for a few seconds before finding it. Atobe's closet might as well be another room, a huge full-length mirror was situated in one corner. And the racks upon racks of garments that looked terribly expensive overwhelmed him.

Fuji hastily changed into the clothes Atobe had lent him, an undershirt and a robe, they were a bit big, but as the other had already pointed out, there wasn't much they could do.

He stepped out of the closet, still feeling strangely ethereal, this place…it was like a whole other world then the rain and the bus stop and drunken cops…

If he had tried hard enough to pretend, then it might have been home. Without the closet and the mirror. They were worldly things that Tezuka despised, Fuji had never held a strong opinion for or against them either way, so he had let his lover have his way.

Atobe was already occupying one side of the bed, still sitting up and fiddling with something on his wrist, his watch, most likely, he looked up. "…Come sleep. You must be tired."

The bed looked comfortable, Fuji approached the empty side cautiously, "…Is it…really all right?" He was sleepy, but he wasn't in the habit of sleeping next to strangers.

"…It's a big bed, Fuji."

Fuji took this response as affirmative and burrowed beneath the covers, relishing the warmth that enveloped him, the room went dark after a moment or two. He shifted on his side, "…Atobe."

"Yes?"

"I think this is a bad dream with a good ending." Fuji closed his eyes, "…When I wake up, everything will be all right again, right? I had a horrible day. Everything went really wrong."

An untainted beautiful child, to be able to speak of his troubles so simply, he almost envied that. Atobe stared at the ceiling, wondering just how to answer, he glanced at the pale visage beside him, "I think so." He said finally, just because.

"Good night, Atobe. Thank you."

There was a ghost of a smile playing about the other's lips as sleep took him in, Atobe turned back to the ceiling, certain that he would stay awake the rest of the night, for he wasn't in the habit either of sharing his bed with strangers. But then...what was done was done. "…Good night."


	3. Chasm

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

...In the midst of finals week, I still wonder how the heck I manage to get this done...but it's done! And I'm really happy! This is the my favorite thus far. As always, thanks for the lovely reviews and happy reading.

_-wingless (01-24-07)_

--

**III**

**Chasm**

--

* * *

"Tezuka." A soft hand brushed carelessly by his shoulder. "…Did you finish crying already?" Yukimura's tone was only mildly accusing, but for him, it was enough. 

They had almost the same voice; Tezuka closed his eyes and gripped the carved balcony paling tighter, so much so that his knuckles tensed white. "…What is it to you?" He asked evenly, making sure his voice wouldn't betray him.

Even though Tezuka knew he didn't look it, he had spent a restless night, shrouded alone by the bundles of wrinkled blankets that he had always admonished the rather sloppy Fuji to clean up. He never did, that was why they were wrinkled.

He had also scolded his lover for hogging all the blankets at once, because Fuji had a habit of bunching himself up inside a swath of sheets, leaving Tezuka himself with more often than not, nothing. Though admittedly, it was a nice thing to get used to, if it was Fuji.

By all rights, Tezuka's slumber that night should have been as fitful as ever. But it wasn't. It wasn't in Tezuka Kunimitsu to cry, even for the loss of a foolish, beloved lover. He turned to look at Yukimura.

The amethyst eyes stared straight at him, "…You haven't, then?"

Tezuka shook his head, "I haven't." He replied shortly, "What's it to you?" This time, the query had a noticeable edge to it.

Yukimura's gaze suddenly lost its intensity and he looked instead, to the ground. "We had to do it…didn't we, Tezuka? He…he failed too many times. This was the last straw. You—you knew it too." He suddenly reached up and grabbed Tezuka by the shoulders and shook him with surprising strength for one so frail, "Look at me! You knew, didn't you?"

"Yes." Tezuka said simply. "I knew. It was inevitable. My lover or no."

"You're horrible." Yukimura retorted, "I'm glad I'm not your lover."

"So am I."

"Why haven't you cried for him?" Yukimura demanded, his voice quiet, yet wavering just slightly. "…I've cried for him! For the way he wept for you, for the way he cursed me…Tezuka, why haven't you cried for your own damned lover?"

His own damned lover.

Tezuka shook his head, it was almost ironic, but his eyes remained dry. He stepped out of the shorter angel's hold, "…I've cried." He confessed finally.

"Liar, you said you hadn't." Yukimura's hands dropped to his sides, "You shouldn't lie to me."

"You wouldn't understand, Yukimura." Tezuka said, "Just like when you lost your lover, I didn't understand. My tears for him are only for him to see. As long as Syusuke knows."

Yukimura laughed a brittle laugh, "I don't ever understand you. With or without a lover." He stood still, "Tell me why I'm crying for your lover, Tezuka. You didn't cry for mine, this much I know."

Tezuka stared at Yukimura for a long time, but no suitable answer came to mind. So he stayed quiet and let the grave silence rest.

_You know I cry for you and you alone. _

* * *

Fuji was halfway through lacing up his still rather soggy shoes when he saw the note fitted neatly between the hinges; he unfolded and scanned the note, although the untidy scribble made it hard to read. 

_Just in case you don't remember, I'm going to be out all day with Gakuto. I'm actually kind enough to leave you the car on your day off. Make sure you get Sakuno to school on time, if you're hungry; I froze some in the fridge, I know eating things frozen is beneath you, but deal with it anyway. Call me if you need me. _

_-Oshitari _

_P.S. I'll be back for dinner, I think. _

Fuji refolded the paper and proceeded to squeeze it back between the hinges, it was harder than it looked.

"…Who are you?" A girl's voice.

Fuji whirled around, so flustered that he almost dropped the note, "…I…I'm just…" What was he suppose to say? All he wanted was to get out of here and find somewhere to go without things getting complicated.

The girl had a rosy face and bright chestnut eyes, a strange face, but familiar nonetheless. Fuji looked away, clamping his mouth shut.

"_You promised not to die on me." The small fists pounded his mattress again and again, "You promised…you always keep your promises, aniki!" _

"_I'm not going to die. I'll keep my promise. And I promise you, I'm not going to die, Yuuta." Fuji stretched out a hand which his brother crushed in his own two palms. _

"_The doctors say you're going to die." _

"_They lie." Fuji barely held back a wince. _

"_Doctors never lie." Yuuta watched him carefully, placing his hand back across his arm. "I think you're lying to me." _

"_Wish me well, wish to the heavens that your big brother will become healthy and strong again." Fuji smiled faintly, "I'll get well, and the doctors will lie." _

"_Promise?" _

_Fuji touched a hand to his brother's crimson cheeks, they were so warm. "Yes, of course, please don't cry anymore." _

* * *

Atobe groggily reached for a body he knew would be there. Though he also knew that the body would be a strange one. But all his fingers came away with was the thick cotton robe, and the silken undershirt. Neither was folded. 

He bolted upright in bed. His first thought was that Fuji was shameless enough to wander around naked, but then decided against it. Because he had gone to bed clothed the second time, so he didn't bother, when Atobe threw open his closet door, he already knew he wasn't going to find the clothes.

He stood still, for a minute, feeling strangely saddened. Even his own magnified reflection in the mirror seemed drab. Atobe shrugged on a jacket, just in case it was cold.

But when he saw Sakuno and Fuji with one mud-caked shoe on near the door, Atobe let out a tight breath he didn't know he was holding. He stopped and stared. "…Well, good morning, you two."

Fuji stopped trying to tie his remaining shoe and glanced up. "…Oh, uh, good morning, Atobe." He didn't move, because he didn't want to dirty the carpet. He felt so unclean, none of his clothes had dried properly, nor had they been washed. He held out the note, "…I found this, I think it's for you."

Atobe looked mildly amused, "…Take off your shoes, Fuji."

"Thank you, but no." Fuji shook his head, "…I've troubled you enough. I shouldn't…it's all right." He managed to squeeze the note in between the hinges, "…I, um, found it like this."

"…You told me yesterday you didn't have anyplace to go. This is a warm place, isn't it?" Atobe looked at him, "If you leave, where will you go?"

"I…I can't do this. You've already done more than enough for me." Fuji's smile was strained, "On top of it all, we don't even know each other. This doesn't seem right."

"…Then you don't know him, Keigo-san?" Sakuno interjected suddenly, retreating to Atobe's side. "Who is he?"

Atobe glanced at her, surprised. "…I didn't know you were up this early, Sakuno."

"I have to be up, I have school, you know." She said.

"…So you do, go get ready, I'll take you in just a minute." Atobe said and gave her a gentle push in the direction of the hallway.

Fuji stared at girl, Sakuno as she scuttled down the hallway, when he heard a door open and close, he looked once more at Atobe. "…It's not right. I have…sins to atone for, and all you're doing is making it easier for me." He hoped the other wouldn't ask, he had already said too much.

Atobe fixed him with an openly incredulous stare, "…You're a _convict_?" Christ, what did he get himself into? He was never going to be so charitable to innocent looking people ever again.

Fuji's mouth fell open, "…_What_?" Then he recalled what he said, and realized that such a conclusion was natural, "…No, no, I'm not wanted, and I didn't break out of prison or anything."

He shifted impatiently on one foot and grasped the doorknob, "…I just…"

Atobe believed him. "…If you leave, where will you go?" He said again. "You don't have anywhere to go. You told me so yourself."

"Would you just _stop_?" Fuji was trembling, "Yes, I have nowhere to go, and yes; I might not fare very well out there as you witnessed last night, but I have to. I have to. That's the end of it."

Atobe sighed, why was he trying so hard to get the stranger to stay, anyway? "…Would you at least bring me the note? You can wear your shoes."

"Your carpet will get dirty. I couldn't possibly." Fuji took the paper and stepped out of his shoes, "Here."

Atobe scanned the note and gave a rather elegant snort, "What am I, a kid?" Crumpling the note up, he stuffed it into his pocket.

Fuji suddenly felt very awkward.

Sakuno reemerged into the scene, with her hair neatly plaited and she was wearing a starched uniform top and skirt, lugging a red bag in one hand. She shot Fuji a suspicious glance and tugged at Atobe's hand, "Keigo-san, I'll be late."

Atobe's hand curled around her wrist, "…If you end up late, we'll just blame traffic. Come on." Glancing at Fuji, who still stood eerily still, "…You come too, Fuji. I can drop you off at the bus stop or wherever."

"…All right." Fuji followed them out at a respectful distance.

* * *

Conversation was sparse, as expected, Fuji glanced back from the time to time at the girl that sat huddled in the back. He wondered what she had to do with Atobe. 

"Sakuno, did you study for your English test today?" Atobe asked, as they rounded a corner.

"Yes, Yuushi quizzed me before I went to bed. I'll do okay, I think." Her answer was noticeably hesitant.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of an impressively green courtyard flanked by several buildings. A marble plaque set in the middle christened the setting 'Seishun Gakuen'. "…Well, do try your best." Atobe called after her when she got out of the car.

And then it was just the two of them again. Fuji amused himself by trying to count the children in the uniformed sea, he lost count at thirteen and turned back to Atobe. "…Atobe, is she your daughter?"

"No." Atobe started the engine once more and backed the car away from the curb. "She isn't related to me at all. Do I really look that old? She's almost fifteen. Unless I somehow fathered her at the age of eight, of course." A lie, if he has ever told one.

Fuji laughed, "…No, but…" He fell silent.

"So, where do you want to go? Back to the bus stop?"

"…Could you please stop mocking me?"

"Ore-sama does not mock people." Atobe returned almost angrily. "The question is perfectly legitimate. You do not want to go home, obviously, so where do you want to go?"

"To you, it is home, to me it's…" Fuji trailed off, "…It's just a warm place."

"So why is it such a bad thing? You wanted to go somewhere warm, right? So I give you someplace warm." Atobe sighed, "You're really exasperating sometimes."

"You say it as if you know me. I don't know anything about you, Atobe. And I don't pretend to." Fuji didn't sound mad though, just remorseful, "…I don't even know your given name."

"It's Keigo." Atobe offered. "And you?"

"Atobe Keigo." Fuji tried saying it; it rolled easily off his tongue, he was surprised, "Syusuke. My name is Fuji Syusuke."

"Fuji Syusuke." Atobe repeated, "It's a nice name."

"…Thank you." Fuji couldn't think of anything else to say. But he wanted to say something. Finally, he said, "…Did you—um, sleep well last night?"

"Very." Atobe said, even he himself was surprised, of course, he had woken up a couple of time cold, because Fuji had snagged all of the blankets over to his side, "…I only woke up once to steal some blankets back from you. But otherwise, I slept well."

"…Do I _still_ do that?" Fuji's face instantly blushed a light crimson. It was routine for Tezuka to tease (though when his lover teased, it always felt like he was being scolded) him about that every morning. From that very first night they bedded together…to not that long ago.

"…I guess you do." Atobe shrugged one shoulder. "Did you sleep well?" He had been alone in such a huge bed, he wouldn't be at all surprised if he ended up attacking Fuji in his sleep. A ghastly thought, but still, Atobe had to admit, it was possible.

"I slept like a log," Fuji laughed a tinkling laugh, "So even if you'd attack me in my sleep or something I wouldn't have noticed."

"Oh." Atobe masked his surprise well, because the other wasn't looking, but Fuji had answered his unasked question as if it had been asked. He hastily changed the subject, "…Are you hungry? Sakuno doesn't eat breakfast at home, so that's why we leave so early."

"…I'm not really that hungry. I don't have any money, anyway." Fuji quieted down again, "You can't keep doing this, you know, why don't you just pull up to curb or something and let me out? I can walk. Walking is…at least something I can do."

"I have money."

"You have everything." Fuji returned.

"I do not." Atobe shot back, slightly put off, "For heaven's sake, Fuji, I'm just trying to help you. It's not treason, is it?"

"Heaven's sake…?" Fuji's lips curled into a faint smile. "…Yes, for heaven's sake, it is treason of the highest order. I don't deserve any of it. So you should stop helping me."

"What's with you?" Atobe snapped, his patience finally on its last stretch, "Most beggars would be down on their knees kissing my feet by now, after all that I have done."

"I'm not a beggar." Fuji set his chin stubbornly, "Let me out."

Atobe barely maneuvered past a passing truck on time, "…No, you'll get run over. Don't be an idiot."

"I'm not." Fuji glared at him, cerulean orbs blazing, how dare he… "Atobe, let me out."

"We're in the middle of the goddamn street." Atobe cursed, "Shut up before I do something stupid and get you killed."

Fuji was about to tell Atobe that it wouldn't be possible for him to die twice, when he caught himself, "You'll die before I do." He spat.

Atobe snaked across the lanes and halted abruptly next to the sidewalk. He took his hands off the wheel and turned to glare at the other. "If you're not a runaway, and you're not a beggar, what the hell are you?"

"…I don't want to tell you." Fuji said petulantly, crossing his arms.

"Don't then, suit yourself." Atobe got out the car, "Let's get something to eat."

"I'm not hungry." But Fuji too, got out and slammed the door shut with a bang. "I don't even know why I'm putting up with you. You say the most atrocious things sometimes."

"I'm hungry. I couldn't care less if you weren't." Atobe informed him calmly, "And that's a very harsh generalization to make of someone after only knowing them for a day. I think I'm the one putting up with you."

Fuji simply gave him a defiant stare, not moving. "Don't put up with me, I don't deserve any of this, Atobe, I told you before." He turned and began to walk away.

Atobe watched as Fuji stalked off, before he knew it, he had opened his mouth, "…Even if you're not hungry now, you'll probably get hungry later. Eat now, so that you don't have to eat later."

Fuji stopped.

Atobe took this opportunity to stride up to him and take him by the arm, "…Are you angry at me?"

"Why would I be angry?" Fuji shook his head, "…I don't have money, I already told you."

"…And I have too much money." That was an understatement. Atobe began to walk in the direction of the restaurant. "You're not so bad a person to waste it on."

"…You shouldn't. Waste it on me, I mean." Fuji mumbled.

"Well, I'm going to. Deal with it."


	4. Name of Wonders

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

I'm sorry this chapter took such a long time, I had writer's block and wasn't sure if this would get finished at all, but it did, so I'm SO happy right now you don't even know. So please enjoy while I go prance around weirdly...or something. I'll just shut up now.

--

**IV**

**Name of Wonders**

--

* * *

"…We're currently serving a full house, right now, sir." The girl at the counter apologized with a deep bow, "And the waiting list is very long, if you come back after an hour or so perhaps there will be space available for you and your friend." 

Fuji shifted from one foot to the other and stared at the patterned tiles, "Atobe, maybe we should just…um, leave."

"…Well, maybe we should." Atobe shrugged airily with an ever knowing smirk, "…If they want to miss out serving Atobe Keigo…it's their problem. You want to go, Fuji?"

The girl's eyes popped, "…Wait—wait…you're _Atobe Keigo_? Are you _really_?"

"The one and only." Atobe nodded as the female half the population in the restaurant turned to stare. "…Do you think you can manage to get us a table now, miss?"

"Oh my gosh, you _are_!" The girl clasped a hand to her mouth, "You _are_ Atobe Keigo! I can't believe I didn't recognize you!"

"…Atobe-sama!" A random someone waved her hand, "You and your friend and can join my table! We can all just squeeze over to make room!"

"No, no! I sit closer, Atobe-sama, over here! See, there's plenty of room over here!" Another thrill voice called out.

"Oh, and miss." Atobe stopped the counter girl, who was obviously about to bolt into the kitchen and announce that the great Atobe Keigo had walked into their humble little restaurant.

"…Yes, Atobe-sama?" The girl stopped obediently in mid-pivot. "You can call me Yuki-chan."

"Well then, Yuki-chan." Atobe indulged her just because, "…Please make sure the table is as private as you can possibly manage. My friend hates publicity."

"Oh, of course, anything that Atobe-sama wishes. I'll be right back, please excuse me." Yuki ran off, positively giddy. She shot straight for the kitchen door, clumsily dodging tables in her path, "—Guys! Guess who's here! You'll never guess--"

Fuji glanced up at Atobe, amused as ever. "…How do you know I don't like publicity, Atobe?"

"…You like publicity, then?" Atobe looked mildly surprised, "If that's the case, you want to join one of the random tables over there?"

"…No, thank you, I'll pass." Fuji looked most faintly nauseated at the suggestion.

"That's what I thought."

Yuki returned with a stack of menus and a blazing red face, "…I think a table in the back has just cleared, Atobe-sama. If you can just follow me…"

"Come on, Fuji, enough gawking." Atobe took his arm again and led him to the back, where a small table for two had miraculously sprung out of nowhere.

"I wasn't gawking." Fuji shook Atobe's hand off roughly. He slumped down on one of the chairs.

"Sure you're not." Atobe scanned the menu, "…I'll have white wine to drink. Fuji, what do you want?"

"I don't know." Fuji suddenly looked stricken, "…I'll—I'll just have the same thing you're having. White wine. Is it good?"

"…It's just _to drink_; it's not something we eat. Haven't you ever been inside a restaurant?"

"Not for a long time. I forgot." Fuji said, staring at the tablecloth, "…I'm sorry."

That was the strangest answer he had ever heard to any question, "Whatever, don't worry, a bottle of white wine then and two glasses, obviously, Yuki-chan." Atobe turned back to the menu, "I'll call you back when we're ready. You may leave now."

"Whatever Atobe-sama wishes!" Yuki nodded eagerly and disappeared.

"…Are you famous, Atobe?" Fuji said, watching her go, with a rather bemused expression now etched upon his delicate features. "…Why does everyone know you?"

Atobe glanced up from the menu to the expectant cerulean eyes, watching him intently, "…You could say that. Or you could just make it simple and say that my name does wonders."

"There are not many names that do that." Tezuka's name is one of them, but of course, Fuji doesn't say, "You are very blessed, Atobe." He paused to flick a stray strand of hair that covered his eyes. "I'm sure you know it though."

"…Thanks, I think." Atobe replied after an awkward beat. He changed the subject, gesturing down at the menu, "Have you figured out what you're going to eat yet?"

Fuji shook his head, "…I told you, I—I have no money, and I'm not that hungry. I'll just eat whatever you have left over, that's fine, if it's all right with you." He wasn't even sure that he was that human enough to stomach anything.

What was it with Fuji? Atobe asked himself for the umpteenth time, not even his more rabid fans would request so kindly to eat his leftovers. "…Well, how about I order a large serving, and we can both eat? Is that okay?" This was extremely awkward, even for a host as seasoned as Atobe.

"…That's fine." Fuji nodded, "Thank you."

So Atobe waved to Yuki, who was loitering at a nearby table and ordered a large bowl of shrimp yakisoba.

* * *

It was a pleasant meal; all in all, Fuji was surprised to find how ravished he was. The only complaint he had was that it wasn't peaceful. Every once in a while, someone would approach Atobe and beg for an autograph.

When Atobe had finished signing his umpteenth autograph on a napkin, Fuji asked, "…What's so special about a piece of paper with your name on it?"

Atobe had been picking at the remains of noodles in the bowl, "…Beats me, but it's good manners to abide by your fans every once in a while."

Fuji smiled and set down his chopsticks delicately, and reached for his napkin, "Amusing as ever, humans are."

Humans were amusing, he was inclined to agree, Fuji had a beautiful smile, Atobe noticed. "…I suppose they are." He attempted to smile back, though it was more of a smirk than anything, "So much for 'I'm not hungry'."

"…So I was, I'm sorry."

"Quit apologizing." Atobe got to his feet, "It gets old."

Fuji stood up too and followed Atobe to the counter where the other handed the starry-eyed cashier a bunch of bills. "Keep the change." Atobe said.

"…You're generous." Fuji remarked, as they left.

"I can afford to be." Atobe returned, "…Are you coming home with me or not?"

Fuji shouldn't. He knew, he knew that Yukimura wanted to break him on the streets and watch him suffer; the other was probably seething right now. "…I shouldn't."

"…But you are?"

"I want to." Fuji hung his head. He felt miserable all of the sudden, all of the good spirits from moments before, were completely gone. "But I shouldn't. I really shouldn't be doing this, Atobe." He balled his hands into fists. "…I…"

"If it makes you feel any better, I do things I'm shouldn't be doing everyday." Atobe looked at him, "Get in the car and stop babbling, you're not making any sense."

Fuji smiled again, "You're the nicest stranger I've ever met. Thank you."

* * *

"…Why are you _always_ calling him? Atobe's a big boy, Yuushi." Gakuto thumped the mattress to show his disgust, his voice had a tight edge to it, "…Why the hell can't we _ever_ spend a single day with stupid Atobe interrupting us?" 

Oshitari looked from tapping figures into his cell phone to the slight redhead, who was naked save for a flimsy shirt that left little to imagination. He chuckled quietly, "…You're the one to talk, Gakuto." He gestured to the various magazines strewn all over the bed, they had little in common, except that they all profiled the topic of discussion (Atobe) on some page or another. "All we did all morning was make out and look at magazines about Atobe. You're becoming quite the rabid fanboy."

"I'm not a rabid fanboy!" Gakuto's face immediately glowed a bright shade of crimson. "…Yeah, okay, I might do that…but I don't call him every five minutes!" He set his chin stubbornly and glowered in Oshitari's direction.

"What's the matter, you jealous?" Oshitari shot back, though he was only teasing. "…How do you know I'm not jealous of all the magazines and who knows what else you keep around, Gakuto?"

"Who knows what _else_?" Gakuto slapped him good and hard on the shoulder, "Yuushi, you _live_ with him, damn it! That's worth a thousand magazines right there!" And then he grew quiet, "…Yuushi, why won't you move in with me? Am I really that bad of a boyfriend?"

Oshitari kissed him, a long, slow unhurried kiss. He pulled away, "…It isn't like that. We've talked about this." He reached down and let his hand rest between Gakuto's legs, whose body at once went taut.

"…You never answer why." Gakuto bit his lower lip, "You—you do love me, right, Yuushi?"

"I love you." Oshitari affirmed calmly and touched his slicked fingers to his lover's mouth.

Gakuto kissed the wet tips of his fingers and made a face, "…I don't like the way I taste."

"I think you taste lovely." Oshitari kissed him again, "…If you disagree with me again, I'll have to punish you."

There was a heated glint in Gakuto's eyes, he crossed his arms childishly, "…I don't like the way I taste. I taste absolutely nasty."

"…I'll punish you—after I call Atobe." Giving him one last linger peck, Oshitari tapped the remaining numbers in his cell phone and waited, determined to focus on anywhere but Gakuto.

"Atobe? It's me." He said, tone suddenly businesslike, "…I froze the stuff in the refrige—what the hell do you mean _why_? I left you a note, didn't you read it?" He heaved a sigh, "Do you always have to act like some spoiled brat?"

Gakuto was glaring at him, Oshitari could feel it. He sighed yet again and shifted the phone to his other ear, "…I worry about you, that's all, Atobe. Not a crime, is it?"

Oshitari hung up without saying goodbye.

"You worry about him?" The redhead spat out, lying flat on the bed, arms stretched out before him, "Why the hell do you worry about him? Isn't Atobe a big boy?"

"Yes, but Atobe is also a big brat who needs to be looked after." Oshitari returned calmly, stretching out beside him. "Where were we?"

"You were about to punish me, and then you decided to call Atobe instead." Gakuto snorted, "…Some lover you are."

"I'm sorry." No snide remark came this time, and those that could have come were smothered by Gakuto's seeking tongue.

"I'm not going to lose you, Yuushi." Gakuto had quite a thing for talking coherently when literally tongue-tied, "…Especially not to Atobe."

"Don't be ridiculous, you'll never lose me." The words came out slurred. "…Atobe and I are just…"

Just what?

_Atobe's mouth twisted into a savage smirk, "You're just an unfortunate boy, Oshitari." _

_Oshitari nodded, eyes closed, willing the throbbing pain to go away, "If I'm already that piteous…what the hell are you?" _

"_Just damned." Atobe returned, wiping his mouth clean. "It's a hard thing to swallow, sometimes." _

The unfortunate and the damned.

"—Atobe and I are nothing, Gakuto."

* * *

"He _worried_ about me. Damn bastard." Atobe cursed, yanking the keys out of the lock and pushing the door open with a flamboyant bang. "_Goddamn_ bastard." 

Fuji closed the door quietly behind him and watched as the Atobe stalked towards the kitchen in a rage. He had received a call from someone, during that last stretch home and he had been ticked ever since.

He followed Atobe into the kitchen, "…Atobe." He perched carefully on one of the stools were placed by the counter.

Atobe jerked open the refrigerator door and took out a single glass, filled with the brim with something red. Fuji wondered what it was. "_What_?" Atobe snapped.

Fuji winced, "…Could you um, not use that word, please?"

"What word?"

Fuji swallowed, "…That word that you said before—bastard." Saying that was challenging enough. He didn't even want to attempt the other word.

Atobe set the glass down, "…Goddamn?" He asked.

"Yes…that, could you please not say that, anymore?"

Atobe glared at the glass, only a supreme idiot like Oshitari Yuushi would even think to freeze-- he sighed. "I don't mean anything by it. But whatever."

"Then you won't say it anymore?" Fuji asked hopefully.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't." Atobe shook his head, though he turned just so that the other couldn't see him laugh.

"Thank you." Fuji lit up again, he walked over to where Atobe stood, "…What's this?" he picked up the glass and studied it for a minute, intently.

"It's…well…medicine." Atobe said, perhaps a beat too late. "Put it down." He waited for more questions. "It's hard to clean up if spilt."

"I'm sorry." Fuji obeyed and set the glass down carefully. "…Are you sick?" He wanted to know, looking at him. Now that he thought about it, Atobe's complexion did appear to be somewhat wan.

The eyes weren't of this world; they were too beautiful to belong. Atobe looked from the glass to Fuji again, "…You could say that." He admitted quietly, "I have been for a while." A very long while, but of course, he couldn't say that.

Fuji touched a timid hand to his shoulder, "…I'm sorry." He dropped his hand, though his eyes never left Atobe, "I hope you…get better…soon."

Get better? He almost laughed.

Atobe lied easily, because Fuji was still such a child, "I will." His hand came up to clasp the other on the shoulder, but in the end, he couldn't quite manage, something—someone this beautiful, this innocent...touching him seemed a sin, with these hands. "Don't worry."


	5. Beauty

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

Once again, after a valiant struggle with writer's block, I emerge glorious once again, of course, the battle scars remain to be seen, in the utter quality (or lack thereof) in this chapter. But my endless thanks to the people who have reviewed and kept me going.

_-wingless (2-09-07)_

--

**V**

**Beauty**

--

* * *

"Everyone, may I have your attention please?" Sakaki-sensei called the class to order in his usual laconic manner, but everyone immediately stopped horsing around and quieted without further command.

Sakuno scurried to her seat, first period was English, it wasn't a class she particularly excelled in or liked, and she knew no one in that class, for one. Sakaki-sensei really didn't add any bonus points either.

Sakaki-sensei gestured to a raven-haired boy, a boy that Sakuno noticed for the very first time, he wasn't too tall, and she couldn't see his face because he wore a baseball cap pulled down low, but he exuded a sense of confidence that she often wished she had.

"Everyone, this is Echizen Ryoma." Sakaki said, by the way of introduction, "He just moved back from America. I'll expect everyone to help him get settled. Echizen, introduce yourself." After a moment, he added an afterthought, "And take off your hat."

Sakuno watched him closely, fully expecting a flinch of some sort, because newcomers were usually scared to death of Sakaki-sensei. But this Echizen Ryoma showed nothing whatsoever.

The boy took off his cap and twirled it around on one pointer finger. Sauntering (Sakuno could find no other word that fit) up to the podium, he said, "Well, as you already know, my name is Echizen Ryoma. I am from America, New York, to be precise." He paused in a moment of thought, and then continued, "I enjoy playing tennis, and just sports in general. I have a cat named Karupin. That'd be all." All this was enunciated in almost perfect Japanese.

So saying, he stepped aside, not unnerved by the rather disapproving glance that Sakaki shot his way, or maybe he didn't notice, but Sakuno didn't think so.

"…Right, well, we're short on textbooks at the moment." Sakaki retook command of the podium, just ever so slightly flustered. "So for the time being, you can have a seat next to Ryuzaki." He stared straight at Sakuno, "Ryuzaki, raise your hand."

Sakuno cringed and did as she was told, a light blush painting her cheeks as Echizen Ryoma slid into the seat next to hers.

But the scary thing was, Echizen Ryoma—no, just Ryoma. Ryoma reminded Sakuno of Atobe. "…Here." Her voice sounded so squeaky to her own ears, she slid her book across to him, "…We're on page 47 right now."

"…Oh, thanks." He barely glanced at her.

Sakuno quickly averted her eyes. It wouldn't do at all for her to stare. If Atobe Keigo's mightier-than-thou attitude had anything to be merited from, that was what she learned.

* * *

"_What does it feel like?" The scathing voice was sickeningly sweet, "To be so eternally perfect? How does it feel, hmm? Isn't that what you've always wanted?" _

"…_Stop—stop it." He hated it, this place, the hands on him…everything. _

_It was even possible to despise perfection itself, Atobe discovered._

"_Isn't that what you've always…" _

"I said _stop_, damn it!" Atobe bolted upright in…bed?

Yes, in bed, he was messily shrouded in blankets that seemed to be hurriedly tossed over him at some point.

He looked around, and noticed that there were finger marks on his wrists. He glanced around the room and saw Fuji crouched next to the door. "…Fuji?"

"Atobe." The cerulean eyes lit up as he got to his feet, "…Thank heaven, I was really getting worried." He walked over to the side of the bed, "…You still look very pale, how are you feeling?"

"Fine." Atobe fixed him with a hard stare, "What happened?"

Fuji shook his head and sat gingerly on the edge of his bed, hands folded, "I don't know, you—you just collapsed."

"I did?"

"Yes, you did." Fuji hung his head, "I dragged you here, and—and are you really sore? I'm really, really sorry. It's all my fault that you're like this."

"Stop apologizing, it's not your fault." Atobe said, he was sore, but he wasn't about to let on, "How long have I been out?"

Fuji's eyes trailed to the clock on the wall, "…Half an hour, give or take. And oh, your medicine defrosted." Getting up, he ran out of the room and tiptoed back in, carrying the glass, extending it to Atobe, he said, "Here. You'll get better."

Looking at the proffered chalice, Atobe suddenly wanted to weep. He took it, and stared hard at the crimson swirl.

_What does it feel like?_

Hell. Atobe wished he could have told him. I hate it. I hate it so much you don't even know. I hate you. And if I ever have the misfortune to spit you in the face, I'll say it a million times.

He swallowed it in one painful gulp and hastily wiped his lips with a nearby tissue, and crumpled it between his fingers. He handed Fuji the glass, now just tinged with red. "…Thank you."

"Are you better?" Fuji asked anxiously, taking the glass from him. "Are you?"

"Yes, I am." Atobe offered him a reassuring smile, it almost became a smirk because he wasn't careful, but he managed to rescue it in the end, "Don't worry so much. You'll grow old faster, you wouldn't want that."

Fuji's expression paused, as if his features were piece of a mismatched jigsaw puzzle, he finally settled with a faint smile. "…I'm already old, Atobe."

"So am I." Atobe returned dryly.

"…Oh." Fuji looked perplexed again, but then he laughed, "All right. As long as you're all right."

I'm not all right. Far from it. But Atobe bit his tongue until he tasted the blood.

" _You'll devour the rivers of sin," The crimson eyes laughed at him, "That is the price you pay for your endless eternity." _

"…_I didn't want this!" He stamped his foot, almost on the verge of throwing a tantrum. "I didn't want this…I--"_

_The tainted lips silenced him and held him. "You wanted beauty. That is what I give you." Frozen fingers caressed his face, turning the tears into icicles, "You are beautiful. You will be forever beautiful. This was what you wanted." _

_No it's not. But his voice was gone. Swept up in the tainted embrace that wasn't beautiful at all._

Atobe found Fuji's hand and held it. He closed his eyes. This was beauty. Ten thousand times more than what he himself had, if that was even beauty, to touch it, even once…it was a blessing.

"…Atobe?" There was a negligible shudder that accented Fuji's voice. Fear. "…What are you…"

"You're beautiful. Has anyone ever told you?" Atobe looked down at the hands.

"…No." Fuji shook his head, with a most perplexed expression, "Am I really?" His voice sounded hopeful above all else. "No one has ever said that to me before."

No one? Atobe found that almost hard to believe.

He gave the slender fingers a comforting squeeze and let go, "Yes you are, Fuji. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Fuji nodded with that same vague smile, saying nothing. At length, he sat down on the edge of Atobe's bed and laced their fingers carefully back together.

"Atobe, you're beautiful too." Fuji said after a long pause. "I know you don't think so, but you are."

* * *

"You sit next to Echizen Ryoma in English???" Tomo practically screeched in her ear, "You're kidding right? First you get to _live_ with Atobe-sama and then you score a seat next to Echizen Ryoma?? Are you insane?"

"Calm down, Tomo." Tachibana An unwrapped her own lunch, "…Why do you always have to make a production out of everything? So who cares if Echizen Ryoma is now the most popular kid, having been here for only three periods? Sakuno isn't interested in the flashy type." She bit into the sandwich, pausing for breath. "Else, she would have been sleeping with Atobe already, and we all know she hasn't."

Sakuno's ears and face burned, she stared hard at the lunch tin full of fried rice that Yuushi had packed for her the night before. Her and…Keigo-san? The things her friends said sometimes. "I'm only fifteen…" She offered, although she was sure it would be lost to them.

"…An, you don't tell people when you sleep with somebody! That's common sense." Tomo scolded. "But anyway, Sakuno, you're so lucky! Half of the girls in my PE class have a crush on him now, just because he's some tennis hotshot, can you believe that?? Isn't that just _insane_?"

"Including you." An scoffed.

"I so do _not_ have a crush on him." Tomo shot back hotly.

"Usually people don't tell other people if they have a crush on someone either." An smirked a smirk that reminded Sakuno of Atobe. "…But Sakuno, you don't--" She cut off abruptly, "…Speaking of the devil…"

Someone tapped her shoulder lightly, Sakuno whirled around on her knees, a feat not so easily accomplished.

It was Echizen Ryoma.

He pulled at the bill of his cap, "You _are_ Ryuzaki, aren't you? The girl that sat next to me in English this morning?" He radiated still of confidence, even though that cap made him look terribly out of place.

"…Oh, yes! I am." Sakuno forced herself not to sound too eager, there was no sense in giving Tomo and An anymore evidence of her feelings towards Echizen Ryoma. "…May I help you, Ryoma-kun?"

"…Not really." Ryoma's expression was unreadable. He rummaged around in his bag until he unearthed something that Sakuno recognized as her English notebook. "…You left this in English class." He held it out to her. "Here. It took me forever to find you." He said this with a slight shrug, "I've been looking since the beginning of lunch."

Sakuno could even feel her face grow warm. That didn't happen often. She took the book from him and tucked it carefully away in her own bag, "Thank you." She didn't dare look at him. "You shouldn't have…would you like to sit down, Ryoma-kun? Have you eaten yet?"

"I haven't, but it's no big deal." Ryoma remained standing, pulling absently at the bill of his cap, "My old man forgot to pack me lunch today." Then he sat his bag down and plunked down beside it, crossing his legs, "I'm not too hungry."

"I'm sure Sakuno won't mind sharing her lunch with you." Tomo snickered and An pinched her hard.

Sakuno blushed some more and wished she could disappear. She snuck a glance up at Ryoma, and almost laughed at the 'what the hell' look that he was currently giving Tomo and An.

She turned back to Ryoma, more determined than ever not to give the two of them the satisfaction of watching her share her lunch with him, but she was certainly worried about him.

Taking a deep breath, Sakuno offered him her lunch tin, "…Um, Ryoma-kun, would you like a spring roll? It's good, I already had one."

He studied the said delicacy for a very long time before picking it up gingerly between two fingers, "Okay, thanks."

After a minute or two of masticating carefully, he smiled a faint, but genuine smile, "It's not bad."

* * *

Atobe suddenly wanted to kiss him. To kiss the mouth that said such beautiful words that would have been lies, should it be spoken otherwise. "What do you mean by that? Of course Ore-sama knows that he is beautiful." He feigned mockery.

"You know it, that's true enough." Fuji replied calmly. "But you don't believe it. People seldom believe that they are beautiful. Because no one deserves it." He shook his head, "But you are very beautiful."

"I get the feeling that you're speaking Hungarian or some other language that's beyond me." Atobe countered quietly, looking at him in the eyes. "I am beautiful, I know it. And I believe it. No one has ever told me otherwise."

"Liar."

Fuji said it smiling, but firmly.

Atobe leaned in and kissed him, because to say he wasn't a liar would be the king of all lies. Fuji's mouth was a child's mouth, with an almost ethereal sweetness.

And then it was over, the bitter tang was back in his mouth, tainting everything that he was. Considering that Fuji had just been kissed by a stranger, he was calm about it. He touched a hand gingerly to his lips.

"…Is your medicine bitter? It tasted bad, doesn't it?" Fuji asked, after a pause.

Atobe winced, "It was." He waited for protest, none came, only that same mysterious smile that told him absolutely nothing. "I hate drinking—medicine. Fuji…"

"Hmm?"

Now Atobe wished that he hadn't kissed him, it made everything awkward. "…That was all right, wasn't it?"

Fuji merely smiled, "Rest." He said, and pressed Atobe down gently with the face of his palm on the bed and got to his feet. "You'll be better."

Never had such a lie been so beautiful, never so much had he--

"Oh, do keep going, we don't stop because of you, do we, Atobe?"

"Yuushi, you're shameless."

_Fuck_.

Atobe shot up in bed and threw the covers back hastily; it was just as he feared, Oshitari Yuushi and Mukahi Gakuto, here in the flesh, leering at him. "Fuck you."

Fuji retreated, a soundless, motionless statue merged with the wall.

"We're quite happy fucking each other, thank you." Mukahi spat.

Stealing a glance at Fuji, Atobe wasn't at all surprised to see the angelic visage go almost completely ashen.

He walked over and placed a hand on the other's shoulder, "Are you all right?"

Fuji nodded, "Sorry, excuse me." With that he practically shot out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

Oshitari and Mukahi stared blankly at the closed door, "Well…" Oshitari found his voice first, "Either he's extremely shy, or he's just a prat. Which is it?"

"Neither." Atobe managed between gritted teeth, "Why the _hell_ did you two just have to come barging in like that? Couldn't you've at least knocked?"

"Your door was open." Mukahi said. "Who is he? Is he good?"

"Now who's shameless, Gakuto?" Oshitari's smirk was like a vixen, "But yes, do enlighten us, I'm curious too."

Atobe got out of bed, rather shakily, but he hid the fact well, "I'm about this close to kicking you out." He said tiredly. There was a bare centimeter between his thumb and forefinger.

"So kick him out." Mukahi took to clutching Oshitari's arm, a gesture that was childlike, but Atobe detected nothing that was a child. "Yuushi can move in with me."

"Yes, I could." Oshitari stared at him significantly, "But Atobe…" In spotting the glass that Fuji had left on the nightstand, he broke away from Mukahi's hold and picked it up. "What about this? You can't expect her to cater to you all the time; she's just a little girl."

Atobe gazed at the glass, and he wanted to curse, but no words came. "She will though, if I ask." Anyone would do anything, if he asked, Sakuno was of no exception.

"But you wouldn't ask." Oshitari said.

Mukahi moved over to latch on Oshitari's arm again, "What're you two talking about?" He demanded.

"I wouldn't?"

_This is your bond to me. _

_I made you someone. Mine. _

_And this is the sin that you must commit by my side. _

_Forever_

"If I were you, I would not. If I knew you, you would not." Oshitari watched him carefully.

Atobe shook his head, "…Wash that for me, won't you?" As he sidestepped the pair to reach the door, he said, as if nothing had happened, "I'll give you permission to use my bedroom, because Ore-sama is generous, you'll excuse me now."


	6. Of Living and Lies

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

Yay, this is the last of the backstory chapters, so the chapters to come should be more interesting. I'm so happy I get to move ahead now, thanks for all the reviews and...Please enjoy!

-_wingless (2-14-07)_

--

**VI**

**Of Living and Lies**

--

* * *

"_You lied! You're a **fucking** liar!" _

_Fuji bit his lip hard; the first thought that came to mind was that he ought to ask Yuuta where he had acquired knowledge of that word. But he sighed, and closed his eyes, "Don't say that." _

"_I'll say it as much as I **fucking** want to." Yuuta slumped down on the chair beside the bed, he winced, having slumped perhaps a bit too hard on the chair, it wasn't by all means comfortable. "You promised you would be able to come home today." _

"_Stop saying that word now, or else I will slap you." Fuji said calmly. "It's dirty, Yuuta." _

_Yuuta fell silent. _

"_Doctor Takuechi says tomorrow. It's not so hard to wait a day, is it?" Fuji reached out to grasp the younger boy's hand. "You've waited months." _

"_Aniki, I don't want you to die." Yuuta looked down, "…You can't die." _

"_Remember? Wish to the angels, my angel and yours, I won't die." Fuji smiled reassuringly, "I promise I won't, if only for your sake." _

Atobe's apartment was luxurious enough to sport a private balcony. Given all that Fuji had he had heard and seen thus far, such a luxury seemed almost insignificant.

Fuji leaned against the marble railing of the balcony, staring down at the crawl of traffic below.

"I should go." He said aloud to no one. "…This place…isn't mine."

"_Aniki?" _

"_Hm?" _

_Yuuta's youthful visage appeared uncertain for a moment, "…How do you know if the angels will listen to us?" _

_Fuji smiled softly, "Of course they will, we've been good boys. Not perfect, of course, no one's perfect. But we've just about conquered our sadistic streaks and all…they can't ask for anymore." _

"_You mean **your** sadistic streak." Yuuta reminded him. _

"_Ah, yes…mine. Well, I'm not sadistic anymore." Fuji shifted on his side and winced slightly, "But you've still got a temper, little brother." _

_Yuuta's face grew worried again, "…If I stop having a temper, would the angels listen to me?" _

"_Saa…" _

And then Atobe had kissed him. There was that, all the reason that he should go. Fuji stared down at his hands. Hands that Atobe Keigo held. Hands that touched the lips that Atobe Keigo kissed.

"Tezuka." He shook his head, "You must be furious. Absolutely furious, disgusted with me." He almost said the word, but steeled himself against it, he laid his head down on the balcony, "You should be. I—I'm such a failure."

It seemed like eternity, but then a hand touched him on the shoulder, "…I thought you'd gone."

Atobe.

Fuji closed his eyes, he didn't want to look at the eyes that were almost strange. Eyes that could have been Tezuka's, if he tried hard enough. The scary thing was he actually _thought_ about trying.

"I couldn't find my way back to the bus stop." Fuji felt his eyes beginning to water, all the more reason to not look up, "…Could you please…not touch me, right now?"

The hand dropped.

"…I'm sorry." Hesitation wasn't Atobe, "…I shouldn't have--"

"Don't." Fuji's plea was a bare whisper, he could feel himself shaking, "It's okay, you can't undo it. You can't pretend you've never kissed me." What a pathetic mess he was. "I can't pretend either. If you—apologize, it would only make it worse."

_I can't pretend so many things._

_That this is a place that's mine and yours._

_Mine and Tezuka's. _

"…Fuji, are you all right?"

"No."

Silence, then Fuji heard footsteps, if he had to guess, Atobe was joining him at the balcony. "I don't regret that I've kissed you."

_Neither do I. _

But Fuji found no strength to speak that aloud. "You should, I'm a pathetic weakling. I'm a failure, Atobe, it doesn't matter if I'm beautiful."

"Of course it matters." Atobe said.

"Being beautiful doesn't keep me from messing things up." Fuji said, a thin watery veil clouding his eyes. He forced himself to look at Atobe, who was gazing at him intently. "Stop saying these things. They aren't true. And they're not making me feel any better."

He half expected Atobe to hit him, the glare tinting the steel-colored gaze told him that the other was thinking about it. But what came out was only, "…What did you do that was so unforgivable?"

Fuji almost wanted to laugh, Atobe said such ridiculous things, perhaps Atobe thought the same of him. "If I told you, it would scare you away."

Now Atobe looked as if he wanted to laugh. But he shook his head, "Try me."

Fuji didn't want to, in fact, he would rather die, if such a feat was possible twice, but Atobe's phone conveniently rang, saving him from answering.

* * *

"Okay, thank you, bye, Keigo-san." Sakuno nodded into the receiver. 

"…Who's Atobe Keigo?" Ryoma wanted to know, when Sakuno shut off her cell phone.

Things had been as placid as Sakuno had dared to hope for, after Tomoka had gotten over the fact that THE Echizen Ryoma had indeed joined them for lunch, and that it wasn't some accident. She had calmed down some.

Until this.

"Oh my god! Ryoma-sama, you don't know who Atobe Keigo is??" Tomoka almost wrung his shoulders off. "He's only like the hottest star in Japan right now, and lucky Sakuno lives with him!"

"Tomo, you have to remember, he's from America." An reminded her.

"But still, Atobe-sama's famous everywhere! I saw an article on him in French once!"

Ryoma turned to her with a rather pained expression, "You live through this everyday?"

"Almost." She said, staring at the grass.

He shook his head, with no small amount of amusement. "They remind me of my parents, kind of." Ryoma leaned back on his elbows. "Why is your name Ryuzaki then, if you live with him?"

"It causes too much of a…commotion." Sakuno paused, thinking of the word, "And plus, Keigo-san hates paperwork. So it's easier just to keep my name." She seriously hoped that he would stop asking questions, Yuushi always told her not to say too much, lest something really got out.

"I see." Ryoma smirked, "Famous people, they're all the same." He got to his feet and adjusted the bill of his cap, "Mada mada dane…you might want to go, I think I just heard the bell rang." With that, he sauntered off.

"…Bye?"

Ryoma didn't hear her, probably.

Tomoka broke the argument long enough to watch him go, "Ten bucks he's going to ask you out at the end of the week." She sounded smug.

"…Tomo, this _is_ the end of the week." An rolled her eyes. "You're such a drama queen."

"I am so _not_. I meant next week, then." Tomoka spat back, "But Sakuno, Atobe-sama did say you could spend the night with us, right?"

Sakuno packed up her lunch tin and stood, "Yes, he did." She started walking, hoping that they wouldn't bring up Ryoma again.

* * *

"Hey, is Atobe sick, Yuushi?" Gakuto asked. "Like really dying sick?" 

Oshitari sighed and stretched out on the bed, pulling the redhead on top of him. "No. Atobe isn't sick."

"Liar." Gakuto tucked his head carefully under Oshitari's chin, "You know, I can tell when you're lying."

"You should be." Oshitari stared up at the ceiling, being with Gakuto on Atobe's bed was mildly unsettlingly. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. "I wouldn't expect anything less of my lover."

"Sometimes I wonder if I really am your lover." Gakuto murmured. "…When will you really tell me the truth, Yuushi?"

_Never_.

"Soon." Oshitari kissed him. "I promise."

"I don't believe you."

But sometimes, there were things Oshitari pretended he never heard. He got up and reached for the tainted glass. "It feels weird here in Atobe's room." He said, more to himself than to Gakuto.

Gakuto stayed where he was, "He has a comfortable bed." Gakuto's way of saying 'stay'. "It's much bigger than mine." 'please'.

But Oshitari didn't move either. "…I like your bed better." He turned and headed towards the door. "It's getting to be dinner, I'll make reservations for four at Luneburg's." Luneburg's was a famed German eatery. One of the precious few Atobe actually deemed worthy. He smiled a lopsided smile. "Be my date, Ga-chan?"

"Yuushi, you bastard." But the smile was back.

Oshitari sighed, a feeling of numb relief washing over him. "I'll take that as a yes."

* * *

Atobe replaced the phone inside his pocket, and turned back to Fuji. "You're not going to tell me, are you?" He sighed, more frustrated if anything. What Ore-sama wanted, ore-sama got…but why he wanted this so much— 

"Telling you will depress you. And scare you away." Fuji enunciated his fate carefully, avoiding eye contact, "It's none of your business, anyway."

Atobe almost hit him, but restrained himself. "Just because you've made a mistake and some bad thing happened doesn't make you a bad person."

"I suppose you know it all?" Fuji glared at him. "Of course, you've sinned worse, you've seen worse, you've done worse. You make me look like a damned angel, all right--" he cut off abruptly, looking like Atobe had slapped him in the face.

He could have asked, but Atobe knew it would be pointless, there would be no answer, not even if he got down on his knees and begged. Fuji was stubborn to a fault, that much he could be sure. "Yes, you should consider yourself an angel compared to me."

Fuji's lips twitched, into something not a quite a smile, "What did you do?" He asked calmly. "You don't have to answer."

"I lived." Atobe answered without thinking, "My mere existence, it's a sin." He shrugged, "I wake up every morning, and I hate myself for it."

"And yet, you still have the courage to believe that you are beautiful." Fuji shook his head. "You're a strange one." He looked like he wanted to laugh. "You want to know what I did?"

"What?"

"I lied. To a person I love more than anything in this world. In any world. And he believed."

"Everyone lies," Atobe stepped closer so that their shoulders brushed, "I'm sure he's lied to you."

Fuji didn't move. "So? Everyone lives. But while many consider it a misfortune, few call it a sin like you."

Atobe was silent.

But not forever. He wanted to say, not everyone lives forever, trying to lie to themselves that they are beautiful.

_Like I do._

_Whatever you have done, I promise you I have done it a thousand times over. _

_You are an angel. Why you don't believe it is beyond me._

Atobe let out a breath he wasn't aware of holding, "…You're the strange one." He wanted to laugh, but the sound that strained from his throat sounded like a dying cat. "Ore-sama doesn't understand you."

"I don't want you to understand me." Fuji shot back rather petulantly.

"You're exasperating." And Atobe meant it entirely, "Do you _not_ want to feel better?"

"I'm not allowed to. The only reason I'm here…" Fuji smiled a vague, pained smile, "…Is to suffer. They have to see me suffer."

"What do you mean?"

Fuji walked the length of the whole balcony, and retraced his steps carefully. "Nothing. It doesn't mean anything. Nothing at all…they must be furious with me."

"…Who's 'they'?"

Fuji finally met his gaze, the cerulean eyes sharper than ever, as if he just saw Atobe for the very first time. "…Atobe." His voice sounded like it was about to break.

Atobe reached out a hand, and then stopped, the fact that he could have picked up a runaway schizophrenic occurring at that moment, the chance of it was slight, but possible. "…What?" he asked, tone slight terse.

Fuji hugged him fiercely, catching him off guard. "Atobe…it's…it's stopped raining."

Fuji's head fit comfortably on his shoulder, Atobe realized. "…That means the sun has come out." He said, patting the other's back rather awkwardly. "It's not a bad thing."

"…It stopped raining…" Fuji repeated, mumbling into his chest, gripping him tighter, "It…_stopped_ raining."

Atobe found nothing else to say. He patted Fuji's back some more and stared up at the sky, almost wishing that it would rain, whatever that meant.


	7. Never

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

Thanks to everyone who reviewed this story thus far. I defeated writer's block once again, and this chapter really didn't turn out too badly...or so I hope.

-_wingless (02- 19-07)_

--

**VII**

**Never**

--

* * *

"Tezuka…it's um, Yukimura, can I come in?" A timid voice sounded faintly on the other side of the door.

Tezuka stood erect at the edge of the bed, tensing up even more when he heard Yukimura's voice. He brushed his fingers by the wrinkled silks, and pondered the request, more inclined to say no. But what came out was merely, "…The door is unlocked."

Yukimura moved soundlessly next to him, standing close enough so they touched, "Tezuka, are you angry at me?" He asked softly.

"No." Tezuka made it a point not to look at him.

"I think you are." Yukimura persisted. "Tezuka…I'm—I'm miserable, you don't know how miserable I am. I just finished crying for Fuji again. This—this is the fourth time! Why do I…_Tezuka_, look at me!"

Tezuka raised his eyes reluctantly, and looked at Yukimura, whose visage appeared unnaturally wan, even though his fellow archangel had always been a bit on the sickly side. The amethyst eyes were red-rimmed. "Why do you always ask me that?" He inquired quietly.

"Because you are his lover, you knew him better than anyone else! Why is he so stupid?" Yukimura demanded.

"He's not stupid."

"Yes, he is. Because my own lover was that way, and still I cry for him. It's been such a long time. He has never come back to me." Yukimura's eyes shifted to the bed.

"So you cry for him out of pity?" Tezuka could have laughed, if it was at all in him to laugh.

"Yes, I think so. Perhaps I cry for you too." The beginnings of a vague smile graced Yukimura's lips. "Because by and by we're going to end up the same way. Fuji will never come back to you. As Genichirou has never returned to me."

"Syusuke will return to me." Tezuka said, willing himself to be still, when all he really wanted to do was to strangle Yukimura for even bringing such a dire possibility to light. "Don't speak that way. We are lovers."

"So were Genichirou and I." Yukimura smirked faintly as he added, "Once."

"What do you want from me?" Tezuka asked. "Did I degrade you so when you lost your lover?"

"You didn't cry for Genichirou. You said so yourself." Yukimura returned, almost petulantly, like a child not getting his way.

"If this is all the memory you hold of him, then Sanada is certainly nothing to cry over." Tezuka glared at him openly now, "Get out of my room, it's late."

"You _are_ angry." Yukimura stood unmoving.

"But not at you, perhaps at the words that taint your mouth, yes." Tezuka took one small step towards Yukimura, deliberately enough so that it could be termed menacing. "Get out."

Yukimura did, sliding his eyes to the ground as he retreated for the door, Tezuka followed him, and when the door swung closed, he turned the lock.

He threw himself with uncharacteristic carelessness down on the bed and wrapped himself in the mess of blankets. Staring up at the ceiling, Tezuka knew that sleep would be a long time coming.

"Come back to me." If he wished hard enough, Fuji would hear. He knew it, that was the only reason that he succumbed to being Fuji Syusuke's lover and beloved. He heard everything, both words and wishes spoken and not. "Please."

* * *

The scene would have been worth teasing for the rest of Oshitari's life, and for the eternities of Atobe's own, but Oshitari couldn't find the words, somehow, after seeing the look on Atobe's face.

Contentment. Something he never really dared to show flashing cameras. And for once in his life, Oshitari thought his—benefactor, yes, for the lack of a better word, Atobe Keigo was only his benefactor, he thought Atobe beautiful.

He stopped with one foot out of the balcony, "…Atobe."

The two broke their embrace at the sound of his voice, the stranger's face flushed crimson, and Atobe's face expressionless. "What do you want?" he asked hollowly. Even the cadence of his voice sounded oddly flat.

"I just wanted you to know that I've made reservations at the Luneburg." Oshitari said, "For you and me and Gakuto and…" He trailed off and addressed the stranger anew, "…I don't know your name, I'm sorry."

"My name is Fuji Syusuke." The stranger said, without no small amount of hesitation as he looked at Atobe. "Who are you?"

"Oshitari Yuushi." Oshitari paused, debating whether to step out there and offer a hand, but in the end he stayed put. "I'm, um, Atobe's friend, you could say." Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Atobe smirk.

"Really?" Fuji seemed supremely unperturbed by the uncertainty of his answer, "I'm glad Atobe has friends." He smiled, and at that moment, Oshitari could almost imagine why Atobe was so content.

"Of course I have friends, Fuji." Atobe chided, though not angrily, "What do you make ore-sama out to be?"

"Narcissistic to a fault, maybe?" Oshitari supplied.

"Shut up."

Fuji looked tentatively between the two of them, "…Can I…say what I really want to say?" He asked quietly. "Atobe?"

Oshitari too, turned his eyes to Atobe, who gave a barely perceptible nod, "…Can't be any worse than what Oshitari's said." He was trying to sound nonchalant, and failing honorably.

"…I thought you were lonely." Fuji said without looking at him.

Dead silence. Another glance in Atobe's direction, and if he didn't know any better, Oshitari would have guessed that Atobe was most ungraciously socked in the face. "…Atobe, when will Sakuno be home?" he said, only because felt sorry for him.

Atobe shook himself, not bothering to hide his relief, "…She's not, I told her she could spend the night with her friends. So we have plenty of time." Avoiding Fuji's eyes, he made his way to the door, "…I have to go…change."

Fuji stared forlornly after him, "…I shouldn't have said that." He said, more to himself than Oshitari. "I'm an idiot."

Oshitari stepped out the door and walked over, "Don't mind him." Normally, he was as much of a bastard as he could possibly be to the people Atobe brought home…but this—boy. He looked nothing more than that. "He doesn't like you for saying it because it's true."

"…Atobe…doesn't like me?" Fuji repeated.

Oshitari blinked, he hastily corrected himself after seeing Fuji's expression, "…No, it's not that he doesn't like you, it's…no one has ever told him the truth, that he is actually very lonely."

"He hides it well." Fuji commented.

"He has to. Because he doesn't want to know that he is lonely." Oshitari looked down at him, "Atobe Keigo is a pathetic man."

Fuji shook his head, "No, he isn't, just confused."

Oshitari found himself inclined to agree.

* * *

"Are you Atobe's boyfriend now?" The redhead demanded of Fuji across the table, fixing him with an incredulous stare, "How old _are_ you anyway? You look like a goddamn kid!"

Fuji fixed his eyes on the tablecloth, willing himself not to shake. He calmed down a little when he felt Atobe's hand cover his under the table. "…Mukahi, don't swear." Atobe said.

"I'll swear like a damn drunk if I want to. Anyway, you're not so much better."

"…If you weren't going around with Oshitari, ore-sama would have subjected you to very painful humiliation just for that one statement." Atobe smirked, "…Oshitari, why don't you ever discipline him? He's such a tramp. At least I've got good taste."

"I'm not a tramp, Yuushi, say _something_!"

Oshitari opened his mouth, but it was Fuji that spoke first, plaintively, "…Can we please all just settle down and have a pleasant dinner? And no, I'm not Atobe's boyfriend."

Atobe gave him a sidelong glance, "…He's right," He said, after a long, pained pause, "Let's just have dinner without trying to kill each other, the reservation was made in Ore-sama's name, think about what it'd do to my reputation."

Mukahi stuck out his tongue, "What reputation?"

Oshitari kissed him warmly on the mouth, "Gakuto."

"…But--"

Atobe shook his head and leaned over, and whispered quietly in Fuji's ear, "Don't mind them, they're always like that."

_Like you're always lonely. _

Fuji smiled; he had forgotten how depressing being a human could be.

"...Oh, and Atobe, are you free tomorrow at four? I was going to ask you earlier, but I forgot." Oshitari asked, finally breaking off with Gakuto, who remained firmly glued in his lap.

"Depends, why?"

"Shiba and Inoue of the _Idol_ magazine want to interview you. They called me to see if something could be set up."

"…I'll give them an hour." Atobe said, after thinking for a minute, "And I demand that if it does get published that you'll have to edit every word."

"I would have done that without you asking, but all right." Oshitari smiled, "They'll just meet you at home then?"

"They'll have to, you'll be gone with the car all day, won't you?"

"…Good point."

Fuji looked from Atobe to Oshitari to Mukahi, who still looked like he was on the verge of throwing a tantrum, and then back to Atobe again. He smiled and reached for a napkin to wipe his mouth. It looked like they were going to have a pleasant ending to the evening after all. "Can I watch them interview you, Atobe?" he asked, "I'm curious."

Atobe hesitated, and then nodded, "Of course you may."

"Thank you."

"…But, Fuji?"

"Yes?"

Atobe paused again, before Mukahi posed the question, he had never thought about it before, Fuji's age, he had a face that could have been thirteen or thirty, "…How old are you? You never did answer from earlier.

"..I'm…" Fuji stopped, what was he supposed to say? Perhaps it was better to go with the age that he died. Saying otherwise would prove unrealistic, "…I'm sixteen."

"You're _sixteen_? Only?" Mukahi laughed out loud, "Atobe, you'll be arrested for child molestation! That's disgusting!"

"We _aren't_ dating." Atobe managed to grit out between clenched teeth. "Shut up." Heads were beginning to turn.

"Yes, Gakuto, be quiet."

With that, Gakuto fell silent.

Atobe turned back to Fuji, "Are you seriously only sixteen?"

"Yes." No, but it was true enough for the moment.

He would have cursed out loud, but Fuji would have his head for it again. "I didn't expect you to be so young."

"I'm ancient." Fuji said, "Trust me."

Atobe could only sit there in stunned silence until the check was presented, he put down a handful of bills and stood up, "…Well, that's it then. Come on, I heard it might be sprinkling outside. Driving is going to be a pain."

"_Again_?" Mukahi slid off of Oshitari's lap, not bothering to hide his dismay, "It's been raining all damn week…"

Fuji gave Mukahi a pointed glance, one that wasn't missed by Atobe. "I like it when it rains." He said simply.

_It means Tezuka is still waiting for me._

* * *

"…I can't believe he's only _sixteen_." Atobe said for the fiftieth time as he watched the blood flow from Oshitari's finger into the glass.

"Keep your voice down." Oshitari waited until the glass was about half full and reached for a nearby bandage. "Here. I didn't expect him to be so young either…but…kids nowadays, you never know."

Atobe took the glass and sipped gingerly. "He refused to sleep in the same bed with me. He's in Sakuno's room." He told Oshitari, not really knowing why.

"I haven't seen anyone this chaste since no one." Oshitari shook his head, "He really is just a kid. Fuji would be a nice replacement for me."

Atobe made a face, "I can't ask him to do that. I just…can't."

"But you can ask her. She's just a little girl." Oshitari reminded him, "What's the difference?"

"…I don't know. He's beautiful. More beautiful than I can ever be in my eternities And I feel disgusting. I _am_ disgusting." Atobe lay back on the bed, "It's…and I kissed him. It…"

"Talking like that won't gain you any fans." Oshitari stood up and took the now empty glass from him, "You don't make any sense when you ramble. Go to sleep." He started to go.

"…Oshitari?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't freeze the blood next time, I almost vomited. It was disgusting."

In the darkness, Atobe could make out the vaguest trace of a smirk, "Okay."


	8. Empty Idol

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

A disheartened congratulations to me, the battle with writer's block took longer than expected, and I emerged with more wounds and whatnot than expected (before you beg to differ, please read for yourself.) But I'm just happy this chapter is over and done with.

I'm also very happy to have found the band W-inds, they are my new music obsession now! Ogata Ryuichi is sooo pretty! Ahem, okay, I'm done fangirling...

_-wingless (3/06/07)_

--

**VIII**

**Empty Idol**

--

* * *

At home, there had been Yuuta.

"_Mom wants you to move into the room next door, Yuuta, so that you'll have your own room. This is the last night you get to spend in my room, okay?" _

"_But why?"_

"_My goodness, Yuuta, you're ten, what would your friends say if you tell them that you're still sharing a room with your older brother?" _

"_They think it's cool." _

"_Really?" _

"_Yeah." _

And at the hospital there was always Mom, Yumiko, on the rarest of rare occasions, Yuuta, who would insist actually sleeping in the hospital bed with him, even though it was small.

"_The nurse might think you're a big baby." He chided, though only halfheartedly. "She comes in to check on me when I'm asleep." _

"_I don't care." And Yuuta would snuggle tighter next to him. _

In heaven, there had been Tezuka.

"_You're a monster to sleep next to." Tezuka scolded tiredly without fail in the mornings. _

"_Maa…Tezuka, don't be mad." _

"_I'm not, just tired." _

_Fuji leaned over and kissed him. "At least I'm an angel when I wake up." _

"…"

He was unable to sleep alone. Because Fuji Syusuke had never been alone before. The other presences in the room, whether it be Yuuta, Yumiko, Tezuka…they all served the same calming purpose.

But Atobe…

Fuji sat up in bed, exhausted; the pink clock on the wall displayed a neon-colored 1:47. He had climbed into this strange bed by 9:30 by the very least. It was ridiculous.

But was it more ridiculous than… thinking about sleeping with Atobe?

He shook himself, hard. Fuji was probably losing it. Not sleeping with…sleeping _next to_. What an idiot he was.

He lay back down and stretched his hands up. "Kunimitsu, I love you. I can't sleep right now because you're not here. You should laugh at me."

There was no answer, not that Fuji really expected one. He got slowly out of bed.

* * *

"You _bastard_." Was Atobe's first reaction to the faint knock on the door, "Weren't you going to spend the night with your bitch? What the hell are you--"

"It's…Fuji." Came the voice softly from the other side of the door, meek as a mouse. "…But never mind, it's okay."

"…Fuji…?" The name took a moment to register, but when it did, Atobe could have slapped himself. He rolled off the bed and stumbled over something hard to get to the door, cursed, though silently. "…I'm sorry, I thought you were, um, Oshitari."

"Well, be glad I'm not." Fuji's face was completely void of color. "…Does he annoy you that much that you always have to curse at him?"

Atobe ignored the query altogether and stared intently at the other. "Are there no blankets in her room or something? You look like an icicle."

"I'm not…that cold." Fuji took a step back.

Atobe reached out and brushed a casual hand across the boy's arm. "…I thought you hated lying."

"I do." The cerulean gaze never wavered. "But I lie well enough if it makes people stop worrying about me."

Atobe sighed, "But you do realize that one people realize that you are really lying, they worry more." A pause, "What's wrong?"

"No…you'll think I'm stupid. A child."

You will still be a child to me, whether you are pale and angelic, the way you are now…or when you are an old shriveled hag with whiskers. Atobe almost laughed. "Sixteen is plenty time to be a child. What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep." Fuji burst out looking at the ground, ashamed as anything. "I realized that I can't sleep alone. Can I…"

Fuji wasn't sixteen, he was seven. Atobe gave the trembling other a careful once over. He smiled, "You can. I offered earlier, remember? You're the stubborn a—I mean idiot that refused."

"I was trying to grow up." Fuji said forlornly. "I thought I could…sleep by myself." His voice grew softer, "I guess I can't, still. I'm sorry for waking you up so late."

"If I had to get up 5:30, I would yell at you. But as things are, I can sleep until two in the afternoon." He stepped out of the doorway. "Come on, you must be tired."

Fuji climbed in wearily on the other side of the bed. The mattress was so soft. "Ne, Atobe?"

"Yes?"

"I know nothing about you."

That made Atobe pause, "…It's 2 in the morning." Was the reply he finally offered, "Learn more about me when you wake up, Fuji."

Fuji didn't speak again. Atobe stared at the other's turned back, and realized with no small amount of surprise that he knew nothing about Fuji either. Except that he hogged blankets when he slept, and he couldn't sleep alone.

What two useless facts to know about someone.

* * *

"Hi, Atobe-sama, we're extremely flatter to be received this graciously into your home. Thank you for making time for us." Shiba, a woman in her early thirties said by the way of introduction.

"Shiba, don't gush." Her partner was Inoue, a stately man also in his thirties, looking at them, Atobe couldn't help but wonder if they were lovers, it was the way his mind worked now, no small thanks to Oshitari.

"You're welcome." He said, tone cordial, "But I'm afraid I have only an hour to spare."

Fuji sat silently next to Atobe on the couch. He looked at the reporters and took in everything, their worshipful attitude, Atobe's miraculous personality switch in the matter of seconds.

"We are lucky to have an hour anyway." Shiba flipped open her notepad, "Should we get started…?" She trailed off as her eyes finally landed on Fuji, still sitting primly. "…Atobe-sama, this is…"

Atobe nudged him, "Go ahead and introduce yourself, Fuji."

Fuji sucked in a deep breath, "No, no, it's your interview, I can't…" He got up, "I'm just going to go."

Atobe pulled him down and kept a firm grip on his arm this time. "This is Fuji Syusuke. He's a friend from out of town."

Fuji looked down at his lap.

"I see, I see." Shiba scribbled furiously. "It's been a while since the _Idol_ interviewed you. Let's see…the last time we did a special on you was last September. That's like more than 6 months ago. Let's start with the basics. How is everything going for you lately? I know that that there was that huge fiasco with the tabloids when everyone thought Oshitari-kun was your boyfriend…"

"Oshitari and I aren't lovers." Atobe looked amused above all else. "And might I remind you that it was _Idol_ that started that particular fiasco."

Inoue winced, and it was no small wince. "Well, besides that, the _Idol_ has always given you fairly good coverage, hasn't it?" He said, almost piteously.

"Yes, fairly, but Mukahi wouldn't speak to me for months after that, it was annoying, if anything." Atobe crossed his legs and smirked. "I trust you have learned from that mistake. If ore-sama acquires a significant other, rest assured that _Idol_ will get first rate coverage, perhaps even a video or two i--"

"Don't speak that way, Atobe." Fuji cut in, voice ice cold. Unlike anything Atobe had ever heard, in fact, until that very moment, he didn't even believe that Fuji could be so harsh. "You know I hate it."

Atobe fell silent, not knowing why he accepted the boy's rebuke so readily. "…Sorry." He squeezed Fuji's hand assuring him, noting at the same time that the fingers that intertwined with his own were freezing cold. "I won't do it again."

Fuji said, "…Yes you will. It's the way you are accustomed to doing things." He smiled a knowing smile that infuriated Atobe to no end. "You can't change just because of me, you can't change out of pity for me."

How true that was, and Atobe almost hated Fuji for knowing so much. But…if he knew too much…no, that wouldn't do. He couldn't have his bad boy façade so easily shattered, especially in front of the senior reporters of _Idol_…it was even worse than when they thought he and Oshitari were fucking on a regular basis…no.

"You're such a boy." He tried to laugh it off, but couldn't quite manage. Oshitari was going to have a field day. "Just because…it doesn't mean anything."

Fuji shook his head, hair falling in front of his eyes, Atobe's hand moved on his own and brushed them out of the other's face. "You're a very good liar. I almost didn't see through you."

No…if this went on…

"…Good thing it's only you." His mind was made up, the worst case scenario was that Fuji would go, and thus the media would harp on for about a month about Atobe Keigo being dumped. It seemed a small consequence right now. Atobe closed the distance between their faces and kissed him. "Now don't mother me so much. You're supposed to be the younger one."

The second tasted just as sweet as the first. Unexpectedly.

Fuji was gone for a second, for a second and only a wonderful miniscule second he was--

"…No."

It was a word that was spoken while their lips were still tenderly locked.

Now Fuji only looked livid. As if he couldn't believe what had just happened. Like he had just been most ungraciously slapped, it was an expression that Atobe was quickly becoming used to seeing.

"…I'll, uh, go get some water…or something." Fuji stood abruptly, still white in the face. "Atobe, do you want anything?" He looked at the reporters, "…Or do you need anything?"

"Oh, no, Fuji-sama, we're perfectly fine." Shiba looked as if Christmas had come early. "You go on and get your water."

Fuji left, and Atobe stretched out on the couch. "You must forgive him. He isn't used to publicity." He remarked airily.

"He seems like a nice boy." Inoue said, "A little young, it seems. How old is he?" So saying, he gave Shiba a rather pointed glance, and she immediately started scribbling.

"Sixteen." Atobe answered with a smirk. "Young, yes. Compared to my last nonexistent lover." He meant Oshitari.

Inoue coughed, "…Could we just lay that aside for now?"

"Of course." Reporters were so fun to tease. "I suppose you want to know about Fuji?"

"Certainly, just tell us as much as you're comfortable with." Shiba said. "How long has it been since you two started…living together?" The remark ended in a question, smart woman.

"…A little over two months, give or take. He cooks for me." If he had said three days…or even a week, the results were bound to be disastrous, not that things were already not disastrous enough. And Atobe knew zilch about Fuji's culinary abilities, but thought that it was something probable.

"It's been a year since you took home Sakuno-chan." Inoue was obviously uncomfortable with the topic under discussion. "How is she doing? You seem to be the angel dressed in devil's rags lately, Atobe-sama, if you don't mind me saying."

"I'm anything but an angel." Atobe laughed out loud, if he had laughed any harder, he would have fallen off the couch. But thankfully, he didn't, it would have been unsightly. "I'll be forever thankful if that ended up in print, though." He paused, "Sakuno's been doing better."

"Oh, don't worry. We will. And that's happy to hear." Inoue said, sounding fatherly all at once. "Are you planning on introducing her to the social scene any time soon?"

"…Sakuno has done a few commercials, but only as a favor to me." Atobe smirked, "It's not something she personally enjoys doing." He glanced pointedly at his watch, as if he just remembered. "…It's 4:55. I'm sorry, but that's all the time I have."

"Oh, yes…it's been an hour already?" Shiba gave a girlish giggle as she gathered up her things. "Well…is there any chance you might drag Fuji-sama out here for a picture? I have the one of you two kissing but…"

"Fuji doesn't like publicity much." Fuji probably hated him now. But it was something that had be done. Atobe showed them to the door. "I would appreciated if the picture wasn't printed."

But the moment he said that, he knew that his fate was sealed.

"Oh, of course." Inoue smiled, "Don't worry."

And Atobe found himself thinking as he latched the door firmly after them, not 'Reporters are such brainless idiots' like he did after every interview, but simply 'Liar.'


	9. To Come Undone

**wingless crimson presents**

--

**Title: **Fallen

**Category:** Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama (belongs to Konomi)

**Type: **Alternative Universe

**Genres: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **When a disgraced, naïve angel is rescued by an arrogant, worldly vampire, an unlikely road to redemption begins.

**N.O.T.E.S.**

I'm actually pretty pleased with this chapter overall, although it does seem a little choppy to me. But thank you all for sticking around. I'm off to kick some writer's block ass again, toodles.

_-wingless (03-31-07)_

--

**IX**

**To Come Undone**

--

* * *

"Tezuka, Yukimura wants to know why you're not talking to him anymore." A nasal tone grated his ear, and once again, Tezuka was forced to think of Fuji and how his lover's voice had resembled bells. "He wants to know if you're angry." 

Tezuka wasn't really a connoisseur when it came to the subject of wine, but he always drank enough to make his head swim, though in that fogged state, he could still think. He didn't turn at the sound of the voice.

After a moment of stillness, he raised the glass to his lips again.

"Stop ignoring me, damn it, Tezuka!"

Tezuka found himself gazing into the green piercing eyes, as that were too bright to suit, too angry to suit. He put down his glass and scooted his chair back a little. "…Yes?"

He realized that he didn't know the angel that now stood staring at him if he was some piece of earthy slime. It was a discovery that little alarmed him.

"Answer me." The other spat out, "Yukimura's in pieces because of you! You selfish, heartless--"

"He is not." Tezuka said, interrupting, willing his own voice to stay even as he reached for his glass, sipped for resolve. "He has his lover, I have mine. Whether or not I pay Yukimura any mind should not be of any importance to him."

"Well, it _is_ important to him!" the other cried impudently.

"And that is my fault?" Tezuka returned, highly amused, but not showing it as usual. He was also a bit disturbed at the sheer—nerve of his unknown accuser but if anything, he couldn't let on.

"Yes, of course it is your fault! You—you're the one that made Yukimura like this! Even when he was Sanada he didn't suffer like this! Why does it have to be you?!"

The glass dropped promptly from Tezuka's hands and shattered.

* * *

Atobe had half expected his bedroom door to be locked; even with all his naivety about the ways of this world, surely Fuji would take a few seconds to figure out just _how_ to lock the door. It wasn't rocket science. 

But it wasn't. Atobe stood in the doorframe, not moving. The door wasn't even closed.

Fuji lay just as motionlessly on his bed, arms stretched upwards towards the ceiling, an exceedingly childlike gesture that suited him.

"Kunimitsu. I did it again." Fuji spoke, most likely oblivious to Atobe's presence, it was a tone that Atobe had never heard him use before. A gentle pleading tone that seemed to Atobe rather out of place, but he stayed silent.

_Kunimitsu…_Atobe searched his mind for the name and drew an immediate blank. It alarmed him more than he would have liked.

"Why do I keep doing this to you?" Fuji asked forlornly of the imaginary being he was beseeching, "I love you. Kunimitsu, I love you."

Atobe felt as if he had stopped breathing and that someone had slapped him good and hard across the face. But he willed himself to be still. Fuji's eyes were closed.

"I love you. Please…just let this—end." The pleading tone turned raw, and Fuji's arms fell to his sides, hitting the mattress with an eerily echoing thump. "Take me back with you…please, Kunimitsu. We—we _are_ lovers, aren't we?...I love you. If—if I say it enough times, It'll reach you, right?"

Atobe exhaled a heavy breath, one that he was barely aware of holding. He stepped into the room and walked quietly next to the bed. Fuji looked just like an angel lying there like a child. He felt sorry for him.

"…Fuji."

The cerulean eyes turned to him, yet Fuji stayed unmoving. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but on a second thought, closed it again.

That made Atobe feel even more horrible, "…Look…uh, I am sorry about what I…did." He managed, after the longest silence of his life, "You…erm, you can curse me if you want to."

Fuji hauled himself up into a sitting position by his elbows. "I don't curse, remember?" He said flatly. "And don't be sorry when you're not really sorry." The eyes hardened, "You know I hate people that lie. You did that on purpose."

The accusation hurt more than Atobe ever imagined it would. He sat down beside Fuji on the bed and reached out to touch the other reassuringly on the arm, but Fuji scooted away, evading his hand. "…I didn't do that on purpose."

"I said don't lie." Fuji's voice was completely ice. "Tell the truth once in a while, it won't hurt you."

"And this is coming from the person who--" Atobe felt himself starting to grow angry, but held it, he wasn't the one that deserved to be angry, Fuji had all the reasons in the world to be. "—What the hell did you expect me to do?" He sighed at last.

At the sudden change in Atobe's tone, Fuji started a bit and turned to him. "Why must you lie, Atobe?" He asked, "I accept you just as you are, is there any reason to lie?"

"…I…" Once more, Atobe was at a loss for words. "You don't know anything about me, Fuji Syusuke." He laughed, finding it extremely funny that he was being 'accepted just as he was'. The only pang that struck him was remembering that grotesque echo from last night, when Fuji had been simply a beautiful child. "And just because you do, the world doesn't. Not everyone is as pure and beautiful as you."

Fuji lay down once more, arms folded loosely across his chest. "I'm not pure and beautiful, Atobe. If I was, I wouldn't be here." He paused, "But the world that you have shown me clearly worships you, don't you think you owe them the truth? By lying to them, you are belittling them."

Atobe too, lay back, though he took great care to measure the space between them to make sure they were not touching. He looked up at the ceiling and laughed again. "They worship only the lie that I have created. The truth means nothing to them."

Fuji said, "Why?"

Atobe shrugged, "I had to, I told you, they wouldn't accept me the way I am now. I have to be Atobe Keigo, the beautiful, the rich, the obnoxious, the mightiest of the mighty. The world worships me for being all these things, Fuji. They don't want the truth."

Fuji was still. Then he gave a snort, though it was a surprisingly elegant sound, coming from him.

Atobe didn't pursue the subject, seeing as how Fuji didn't believe him, he reached out and brushed his hand by Fuji's, he felt the other hand stiffen, but then a moment later, the hesitant fingers curled tightly around his own.

"I'm sorry, Atobe."

"It's okay."

They stayed that way for a long time, not speaking. Fuji looked so peaceful then, Atobe decided that 'who was Kunimitsu?' could wait a little while.

* * *

Yukimura looked frail and sickly as ever, almost human, with all the blankets bunched tightly around him. Tezuka thought as he glared in the general direction of the slight archangel. 

"Tezuka?" The otherwise dull amethyst eyes brightened a little. "…I…didn't think that you would come see me."

Tezuka approached the bed, wondering how easy it would be to just snap Yukimura's neck in two, but put it with some difficulty out of his mind. Fuji wouldn't want him to think that way, "Yukimura, tell me why." He said shortly.

The excitement from Yukimura's eyes faded and he looked away, "Why what?" He asked, perhaps naively, perhaps not.

"Why do you act like such a child? Begging for attention, falling sick so I would come see you." Tezuka wanted to ask exactly who the minion was, but then again, he didn't want to. Yukimura did look sick.

"Children need to be cared for." Yukimura said, not meeting his gaze.

_And pampered so that they become brats. _Tezuka supplied wryly in the privacy of his own mind. "That's Sanada's job, isn't it? It has nothing to do with me."

"But Genichirou's not here, is he?" Yukimura still didn't look at him, "Tezuka, I don't know why, you know it's impossible to know these things. Even the higher powers…like us, we're not immune to emotions that plague humans, like…love."

Tezuka opened his mouth to speak, but then he realized he had nothing to say.

"Tezuka…it's ridiculous, I know." Yukimura laughed bitterly, "I know it's ridiculous, I know you have Fuji. I know that you think that he'll come back to you and be with you again but…" He shook himself, "I've loved you for a long time, Tezuka."

Tezuka was still unable to find any words. He shook his head, "You shouldn't love me." He said, more bewildered by this confession than anything. "What about Sanada?"

"He's not coming back. I know." Yukimura turned at last to face him. "…Of course, I was like you once, so convinced that Genichirou would come back to me. But he is not coming back." He gave another mirthless laugh, a sound that sounded odd coming from beautiful Yukimura. "I know I shouldn't love you. But I love you anyway. That doesn't change."

Tezuka sighed, "Yukimura…I…"

"It's all right, you don't have to love me." Yukimura cut him off before he could finish, which was a good thing because Tezuka realized he had no finish. "Can't you just—pretend that we're lovers? Until Fuji…comes back?"

Tezuka started, "…Do you think he would come back?"

"You love him so much." Yukimura said flatly, looked down at his clasped hands. "You have not even an ounce of emotion to spare for me. I think he will come back just for that. For you."

"Pretend?" It was a concept completely foreign to Tezuka, a person that was grounded firmly in reality, surrounded by dreamers.

"Yes, pretend." Yukimura nodded, "Just for a little while?"

Yukimura's hands were smooth, they could have been Fuji's hands if Tezuka tried to imagine hard enough. But the red-rimmed amethyst eyes weren't cerulean, filled with secrets he wanted to know. Dispelling the clouds one by one. Yukimura's eyes had no clouds, they were so starkly honest.

But still they were warm. And they loved him. And they were here.

* * *

Atobe woke with a jolt to discover that it was dusk, he was clothed, and sprawled out rather carelessly on the bed, still holding Fuji's hand, not so tightly now. Sitting up, he saw that the boy was sound asleep. 

He unlaced the fingers one by one and reached for a wayward blanket to cover the thin form. His fingers traced a delicate cheekbone.

"_I'm not pure and beautiful. If I was, I wouldn't be here." _

"You are pure and beautiful. And you are here." Atobe spoke aloud. "A shame that you are. The world doesn't deserve to hold you here."

He stepped outside of the room and closed the door quietly and slid down against the wall, closing his eyes as he did so. After a moment or two, Atobe reached for his cell phone and dialed Oshitari's number.

The call went unanswered, and Atobe wondered vaguely if Oshitari went out drinking, his phone was always on, and he always picked up without fail. Either Oshitari was out drinking or he was with his tramp of a boyfriend Mukahi, or both. He left a brief message, sounding as businesslike as ever, "Oshitari, this is Atobe. For the article, edit Fuji out, thanks."


End file.
